


Blue is the Warmest Colour

by Gaylagher



Series: The Story of Blue and Ginger [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-15 15:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaylagher/pseuds/Gaylagher
Summary: ok so if you know me irl you know how much i HATED fiona acting pretentious towards mickey and mandy. so, fiona's gonna be different in this one. more.. tolerable.yeah.. don't really have anything else to say. until next time,- Gaylagher





	1. Chapter 1

“I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass I’ll be picking your teeth with my fucking toes, bitch!” Blue screamed at a writhing man on the ground, struggling to get out of Ian’s strong hold. Ian dragged his angry boyfriend away, Casey following suit.

“Jesus!” Ian exclaimed, and got Blue in the shotgun of Casey’s car, before getting in the driver’s seat. Casey sat in the back. It was midnight; officially making it Blue’s birthday. Casey decided they should go to a club to celebrate. A man who was lustily eyeing Ian tried to cop a feel, and Blue had noticed that, and attacked the man. “That’s the last fucking time I listen to _you_ ,” Ian said pointedly at Casey, pulling out of the driveway and driving back to their apartment.

“That was fucking insane, man,” Casey commented, ignoring Ian’s comment, a shit-eating grin on his face. Both Blue and Casey were drunk—however, Blue got in more hits than he received, even in his drunken state; he only got a broken nose and a split lip—and Ian was sober, which had made him the designated driver.

“Are you seriously mad?” Blue said to Ian, incredulous. “The Selma Bouvier lookalike _assaulted_ you!” Casey was laughing hysterically at Blue’s comparison to Selma.

“You could’ve gone to jail,” Ian replied, “did you want to spend your birthday in a cell?”

“No, I wanted to spend my birthday with your cock buried inside me,” Blue flirted, and Casey abruptly stopped laughing.

“Hey,” Casey interrupted, “talk dirty to each other when no one else is around you.”

“We’ll talk dirty whenever we fuckin’ want, asswipe,” Blue replied.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

“Nah, you’re not my type.”

“He didn’t assault me,” Ian said, ignoring the mini-banter between his boyfriend and his best friend.

“He was going to!”

“Jesus,” Ian repeated. “Fine. I’m letting this go cause it’s your birthday.”

“Thank you,” Blue replied, looking out the window. It’s been a year and a month since they got together, and Ian learned _very_ quickly that Blue gets jealous easily, and scares any man that dares to make a move on Ian with his fists. Ian doesn’t admit it, but jealous Blue turns him on. Only Blue can make seething rage seem hot to Ian. Also, he still manages to look exceptionally hot while simultaneously being bloody and bruised.

The trio got out—well, Blue and Casey stumbled out—of the jet black car, and made their way to their apartment. Mandy was there when they got in, Blue’s arm around Ian’s waist and Ian’s arm draped over Blue’s shoulders, her face covered with a paste the colour of pale green. “Again?” she asked, eyeing Blue.

“Mhm,” Ian replied, and grabbed a clean rag—because no one remembered to get a first aid kit to save their lives—wetting the clean rag with tap water while Blue and Casey argued over something insignificant. “What’s with the paste?”

Mandy gave Ian a small smile, “skin moisturizer,” she explained. “I’m going on a date soon and I need my skin to look and feel great.” Her and Lip ended things, which had resulted in Mandy a mess of tears and heartbroken. Ian comforted her, while getting vague flashbacks of how much it hurt when Blue ran out after Ian confessed his love for him. Luckily, his heartbreak lasted a couple hours, what with Blue confirming that he loved Ian back, but it was excruciatingly painful nonetheless.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and Mandy nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah,” she replied, “yeah. I’m moving on from Lip, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Ian said, “I did.” He bit his lip. “Bl-Mickey’s waiting for us.”

Mandy smirked. “Still using that nickname, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ian repeated, smiling this time as both of them made their way to the drunken duo, both sitting on the couch.

“About time you came back,” Blue slurred. Ian knelt between Blue’s legs, and Blue widened his sapphire eyes a bit. “There are other people here.” Ian rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick, moron,” Ian replied, and gently wiped the dry, crusty blood off of his lover’s face. Blue hissed in pain, and Ian muttered an apology.

“What’s with the paste?” Ian heard Casey ask Mandy. Blue intently watched Ian at work, washing off the blood gently, sapphire eyes never leaving Ian’s face. Ian could see the tiny freckles that were previously hidden by the blood. Ian loved those freckles, especially the small freckle on Blue’s upper lip, standing out against the perfect, pink lip.

“Skin moisturizer,” Mandy explained, “need my skin to look and feel great for my date.” That caught Blue’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Ian, looking at Mandy.

“Your-your date?” Casey asked, struggling to seem nonchalant about it.

“Mhm,” Mandy confirmed. “I’m gonna get some sleep. Happy birthday, numbnuts.” Blue grunted a thanks, almost missing his boyfriend and Casey exchanging looks while Mandy walked to her room.

“Fucking hell,” Blue said incredulously, “you have the hots for my sister?”

“I don’t,” Casey denied. “I’m gonna call an Uber and then go home.”

 

***************

Blue had woken up, with a hangover and with his face hurting, as predicted. The hangover didn’t last long, however; Ian was prepared to take care of him, and soon enough, he was in a better mood.

“How are you feeling?” Ian asked for the umpteenth time.

“Better,” Blue answered and bit his lower lip, momentarily forgetting about his split lip, and hissed in pain. “Fuck.”

“That’s what you get for meddling,” Ian said, taking long strides over to his boyfriend.

“I was protecting you,” Blue argued, and Ian planted a gentle kiss on Blue’s lips. “Careful.” Blue’s sapphire eyes were on Ian’s lips before looking into Ian’s emerald ones. Ian was blown away by how much love and admiration the orbs held for him.

“I could protect myself,” Ian replied, peppering kisses on Blue’s jaw, looping an arm around Blue’s waist to pull him closer.

“It pisses me the fuck off,” Blue explained. Ian tucked his face in Blue’s neck, licking and sucking all the sensitive spots while breathing in the addicting scent of his boyfriend, a mix of cologne and the slight aroma of cigarette smoke. Blue sighed in pleasure, involuntarily dropping his head back. “You’re _mine._ No one else should be touchin’ you like that,” he added, closing his eyes.

Ian went on his knees. “You’re right,” he replied, “I’m yours.” He kissed his boyfriend’s stomach, right above the waistband of his sweatpants. “All yours,” he said against the creamy, supple skin, before getting Blue’s cock out and stroking it, making the cock twitch and harden under Ian’s touch.

“You gonna suck me off, or are you just gonna stare at it?” Blue said, looking down at Ian, who grinned up at him.

“Think I’m just gonna stare at it,” Ian teased, before taking Blue in, making his boyfriend groan in pleasure. He relaxed his throat, planning on giving Blue the best goddamn blowjob he’s ever received, and took all of Blue in, deepthroating him, as Blue rolled his head back, pulling on Ian’s red locks with tattooed fingers, moaning as the redhead started to bob his head.

 Soon enough, Ian felt Blue’s cock twitch inside his mouth, and quickened the pace. The shorter man came down Ian’s throat, giving Ian no choice but to swallow it. Ian pulled off with a pop, and got back on his feet, while Blue pulled his sweatpants back on.

“13 months, and I find out _now_ that you have no gag reflex,” Blue scoffed.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Hey, at least I sucked your dick, and I sucked it _well._ ” Ian made his way to the kitchen, Blue hot on his heels.

“You did,” Blue admitted, hugging Ian from behind and kissing his shoulder blade gently, his lower lip feeling soft and coarse at the same time against the skin, due to the cut. “Best motherfucking blowjob I ever received.”

Mission accomplished.

 

***************

“You got me an erotic cake?” Blue read the words added onto the cake. “‘Have a dick-tastic birthday, Mackey’. Who the fuck’s Mackey?”

“You, apparently,” Casey replied, “Mandy thought it’d be oh-so hilarious that you had a penis cake. Cause you’d _literally_ be eating a dick.” Blue shook his head. Ian, however, found the whole thing amusing—the penis cake, the words on the penis cake, Blue eating a dick-shaped cake.

“Christ, Mands,” Blue replied, shaking his head. He turned to the redhead, who had a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” Ian replied.

Mandy lit the candles standing erect—pun intended—on the penis cake. “Blow,” Mandy said, which elicited a laugh from Ian. “Oh, did I say blow? I meant ‘make a wish’,” she added, feigning innocence, and quickly crossed her arms over her chest before Blue can titty-twist her.

Blue blew on the candles after making a wish, and plucked out the candles. “What’d you wish for?” Ian asked, giving Blue a kiss on the cheek.

“Can’t tell ya,” he replied. Mickey thought that making wishes on your birthday or wishing upon a shooting star was fucking stupid. They weren’t ever going to come true, he knew that. But _fuck,_ he hoped that his wish—which was to be with Ginger for the rest of his life—would come true. He knew that it was gay and wasting his wish, but he was in love with the redhead. Ian was in his veins. His heart stuttered at the thought of living without the redhead, not waking up to emerald eyes and a freckly face, or strong arms around him that made him feel protected for once.

He’s lived his life without Ian before, and he felt caged, feeling the need to make an exterior tough as nails so he wouldn’t be hurt. Ian made him drop his guard, let him in behind the walls he kept everyone out in fear of being hurt. He knew for a fact that he had the ability to live without the redhead; he just didn’t want to.

“Happy birthday, Mackey,” Ian joked, and kissed his clothed shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up,” Blue replied, no malice in his tone whatsoever.

Later that night, Blue and Ian were cuddling on their bed, Blue’s fingers running Ian’s bare torso, as if they were itching to touch Ian, itching to have him this bare and close to him. Ian’s head was on Blue’s chest, the chest rising and falling slowly. Blue’s fingers grazed the tattoo Ian had on his side.

“I actually thought it’d be a tramp stamp,” Blue said, his voice coming out distorted, due to the fact that one of Ian’s ears was pressed against his chest. “But a bald eagle carrying a rifle? Damn. Patriotic, man.” Ian laughed a bit, as Blue continued to run his fingers along Ian’s body.

“Hey, you have no room to judge,” Ian replied, “you got the word ‘fuck’ tattooed on your right hand.” He took Blue’s hand and intertwined their fingers together, thinking of the first time they met. Blue had looked intimidating, with his hard sapphire eyes and a permanent scowl on his face. Ian sometimes couldn’t believe that he had Blue like this; so tender, loving, open.

“To scare people,” Blue said.

“What, your intimidating demeanor didn’t work?” Ian asked, and tilted his head upwards to look at his “intimidating” boyfriend.

“Apparently not,” Blue said. Silence hung over them like a blanket. Ian liked how they didn’t have to keep talking to make things less awkward—they could enjoy each other’s loving touches in silence. It was so easy to be himself around Blue, the Ian that was suppressed around others. Ian abruptly got out of Blue’s arms, which made the older man protest. “Ay, come back here.”

“Hold on, I haven’t given you your present yet,” Ian replied, and got out the tiny box. Blue furrowed his eyebrows.

“I thought I told you not to get me anything.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t listen.” Ian crawled back on the bed, while his boyfriend eyed him. “Open the box.”

“Ian—”

“Open it.” Blue sighed, knowing how pig-headed his boyfriend can get, and opened the box, looking at a silver ring inside, shining in the light.

“You proposin’ to me, Ginger?” Blue asked, raising an eyebrow, looking up from the ring.

“It’s a promise ring,” Ian explained, “by wearing it, you’re promising me that you’ll love me forever.”

“You know I’ll love you forever,” Blue said, and took the ring out of the box, inspecting it, suppressing a smile. “What’s the G stand for?”

“Ginger,” Ian said. “I have one as well. It has a B on it. For ‘Blue’.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Blue said, suddenly acting humble.

“I wanted to.” Ian watched Blue slip the ring on, and bit his lip. “So..?”

“I fuckin’ love it,” Blue admitted, and grabbed the back of Ian’s neck, mumbling a “c’mere” before kissing him, the inside of their lips pressed against each other while their tongues were dancing together. Shivers shot down Ian’s spine, and his head spun, euphoria washing over him. Ian felt the same way he did when they first kissed; when Ian found out how soft Blue’s lips were against Ian’s, how calloused Blue’s nomadic hands felt against Ian’s skin, how soft his raven hair was when Ian tangled his long digits in them.

Blue pulled back and leaned his forehead against Ian’s, hand caressing Ian’s cheek, thumb rubbing against his face. Ian knew that he’d never stop loving Blue. He surrendered his heart to Blue, and he trusted Blue not to break it. It was Blue and Ian against the world.


	2. Chapter 2

The air smelled of freshly ground coffee, soft pop music that no one really paid attention to spilled over the speakers, mingling with the light chatter and soft _clink_ s of metal against glass. The gaping windows reflected the pouring of rain, people covering their heads with anything they’re carrying as they scurry off to somewhere dry and warm.

“What would you think of me growin’ a beard?” Blue asked, touching the stubble that was sprinkled around his mouth. Blue bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, waiting for Ian’s answer.

“It’d probably look hot on you,” Ian replied, reaching over and holding Blue’s hand. Blue was comfortable with PDA; for the most of it anyways. He wasn’t used to kissing in public, and Ian wasn’t going to force him to do so. “I mean, the stubble looks great. Kinda feels weird when you’re kissing my neck or something, but..”

“Mandy says I look like one of the hipsters around here with a beard,” Blue said.

“She’s lying.”

“You’ve never seen me with a beard.”

“I did,” Ian said, “you had a beard a couple of years ago, right?” Blue nodded. Ian remembered seeing that beard from far away, and how it made Blue look older and intimidating, but sexy at the same time. Back then, Ian had no clue that Blue liked men.

“You stalked me back then, Ginger?” A smirk played on Blue’s lips while Ian rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to reply when a buzzing interrupted them. Blue took his phone out and answered it. “Yeah?” He paused, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I’ll be there.” He hung up and looked at Ian. “Gotta go. Work.”

“Now?” Ian asked, trying to suppress his disappointment, but Blue caught on, his expression softening. Blue could read Ian like a book.

“Yes,” Blue replied, “I’ll be home in a couple hours.” He got up, and stared at Ian, ostensibly mulling over something in his head, before leaning forward and slotting their mouths together. The kiss sent chills down Ian’s spine, as he grabbed the back of Blue’s neck, needing more. Ian couldn’t get enough of Blue; he always needed more.

Much to Ian’s dismay, Blue pulled back, and kissed Ian’s forehead. It took Ian a couple of seconds to realize that Blue kissed him in a public setting, and a grin appeared on his lips. Blue’s grin matched his, as he turned around and waved at Ian before walking out.

 

***************

Blue hadn’t come back after a couple hours. He wasn’t beside Ian when Ian woke up. Ian had felt exceptionally lonely when he woke up, and then dread filled him. _No. This can’t be happening again._ He forced himself to get up, while tears prickled his eyes, and forced himself to continue on with his day, while walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take his meds.

His phone caught his attention when he had gone back to his room to change into his work clothes, and got a text from Blue that stated that he’ll be home later than expected, and not to worry. Relief surged through his veins, as he read it. Blue wasn’t like Andre. He’ll come back; he always comes back.

He hurriedly shovelled food in his mouth, and put a hoodie and his promise ring on before heading out the door, the weather still chilly from the rainstorm the night prior. The earthy smell of wet pavement filled Ian’s nostrils. Suddenly, fear was rising inside him, as paranoia filled his veins. Ian looked around, trying to shake the feeling of someone watching him off. He looked around, suspiciously. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; just a bunch of people tiredly going to work.

Ian walked into Patsy’s, sighing, hands in his pockets. He felt the cold metal of his ring against his finger, and toyed with his ring inside his pocket.

“You’re early,” Fiona said, seemingly pleased with Ian’s early arrival.

“Guess so,” Ian rejoined.

Fiona’s eyebrows screwed in mystification. “You okay?”

Ian sighed, eyeing his sister. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, Mickey just didn’t come home last night.” Fiona’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “He texted me that he’ll be late, so it’s alright,” Ian added quickly. “He’s not gonna bail.”

“So you just miss him?”

“Yeah.” Ian gave her a small smile. He terribly missed Blue, which was the cause of his sour mood. Fiona smiled fondly at her little brother, so in love. Ian was always quiet and kept to himself—especially after taking his meds; he was a hollow shell of the Ian she knew and loved—but after meeting Mickey, he was slowly going back to the sweet boy she missed. It was like the old Ian was in a deep slumber, and is just awakening. If being with Mickey made Ian happy, then she approves.

“He’ll come back soon,” Fiona promised and touched his cheek before walking away. Ian was pleasantly surprised at how supportive Fiona was of their relationship. “Listen, we have a new waiter. Do you mind training him? I’m busy with Edna’s Laundromat.”

“I heard you found asbestos on the ceiling,” Ian said, taking his hoodie off.

“Yup,” Fiona replied, “and much, _much_ more.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.” Her neon blue strip of hair stood out against her chestnut brown hair. “So? You mind trainin’ him?”

“No,” Ian stated. He got to training as soon as the new waiter came in, the feeling of paranoia not planning to go away anytime soon.

 

***************

Ian was munching on his sandwich on his break when he saw a pasty, raven-haired man enter, seemingly bushed and cantankerous, plopping onto a booth and pinching the bridge of his nose. Even though he seemed worn out and tetchy, he was still breathtakingly beautiful; the most beautiful man Ian had ever met. Ian’s heart swelled in his chest and thumped against it, as he made his way to Blue. Relief flooded over him, and Ian realized how badly he missed his boyfriend. It had almost—keyword; _almost—_ taken his mind off of the nonsensical paranoia that manifested inside him.

“Hey,” Blue greeted, smiling wearily at Ian. He reached over to take Ian’s hand and pressed his lips against Ian’s knuckles.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ian asked, sounding less irritated than he planned to. He was too relieved to be mad at the man, and Blue’s full pair on Ian’s hand didn’t help him focus on sounding mad.

“Caught up with work,” Blue replied and lightly tugged on Ian’s hand, wanting Ian to sit next to him. Ian didn’t budge, however.

“Work, huh?” Ian said skeptically.

“Yeah, work,” Blue said, “sit.” Ian scoffed and took his hand away from Blue’s grasp.

“I have to go back to work,” Ian said and Blue grabbed his hand again.

“Baby,” Blue said, “sit down.” Ian’s heart raced when Blue had used the pet name, and caved in. Ian sat down next to him, which earned him a toothy smile from his boyfriend. “Missed you,” Blue admitted, kissing Ian’s clothed shoulder.

The mixture of Blue’s cologne and cigarette smoke filled Ian’s nostrils, and he pressed his lips against Blue’s. He couldn’t stay mad at Blue; that was evident. Ian felt Blue’s full pair push back against his own, and pulled back to see the man he was dick-whipped for. He admired the tiny freckles standing out against Blue’s pale skin for a split second, before the urge to kiss him again overtook his body. Blue’s hand made its way up to Ian’s cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly against it. Blue was here, kissing him, and the last bit of irritation against him being away for too long melted away.

“You guys have become the annoying couple now,” a female voice said, which startled both Blue and Ian. Ian pulled back to see another grinning Milkovich. “Y’know, the couple that can’t keep their hands and lips off of each other,” Mandy added.

“Fuck off,” Blue snapped, narrowing his eyes at Mandy.

“How’d your date go last night?” Ian inquired, not wanting to talk about how Blue and Ian _did_ act like the annoying couple.

“Horrible,” Mandy said.

“Explain,” Ian said.

“Please don’t,” Blue interrupted, which earned him a playful glare from the redhead.

“Okay, so.. he picked me up at around 7, right? He’s in this fuckin’ black blazer and white dress shirt. Gives me a bouquet of roses, and I’m impressed. He takes me to this fucking van, and lets me in, and there’s fucking liquor in the van. Fancy kind.

“So we get to this restaurant, right? And we’re talking about our childhood—”

“Please tell me you sugarcoated yours,” Blue interrupted again.

“Of course I did, dipshit,” Mandy replied, and turned to Ian. “Anyways, he keeps talking about his picture-perfect childhood—his parents owned a fucking golf club, Jesus, they were loaded. Anyways, he seemed interested in me and telling me these _hilarious_ stories that I didn’t really get but laughed anyways.

“And then, out of fucking nowhere, this woman came up, with mascara running down her face, to our table. She was screaming, which got everyone’s attention, and she was like ‘you’re cheating on me, James? Again?’”

“No shit?” Ian inquired.

“No shit,” Mandy replied, “I thought this bitch was crazy and had gotten men mixed up, but no! She was right. I had gotten out of there before she could, y’know, come at me with a knife or some shit.”

“Holy fuck,” Ian said, his eyes widened in surprise. “So.. you’re not going on another date with James?”

“Nope,” Mandy replied. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“Do you.. _want_ to date anyone else?” Ian asked, unsure of how to pry open Mandy’s eyes and show her that there is an eligible man who’s dying to date Mandy right in front of her—Casey.

Mandy smirked, “why, do you want to date me?”

“Yes,” Ian replied, rubbing his forehead. “That’s exactly what I want.” He heard Blue clear his throat from beside him, and Ian suppressed a smile while side-eyeing him.

“No thanks,” Mandy replied, “not into redheads.”

“Her brother is,” Blue said, raising his eyebrows. Ian smiled and lowered his head on Blue’s shoulder, face nuzzling into his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of Blue; the scent that Ian terribly missed. Ian forgot why he even felt paranoid earlier that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so if you know me irl you know how much i HATED fiona acting pretentious towards mickey and mandy. so, fiona's gonna be different in this one. more.. tolerable.
> 
> yeah.. don't really have anything else to say. until next time,
> 
> \- Gaylagher


	3. Chapter 3

It was rare that Ian and Blue had the apartment to themselves. Usually the place is packed with people who would audibly show their distress to the kisses Blue and Ian share, never mind moaning in pleasure when they’re having sex. So, whenever they do get the place to themselves, they fuck like bunnies.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Blue moaned, throwing his head back as his lover opened him up with his tongue, eyes closed. Ian blindly groped for the lube packet, and ripped open the packet with fumbling fingers as he continued to please his boyfriend. He coated his dick with lube before pulling away. Ian got on top of Blue, lining up his cock with Blue’s opening before thrusting inside him, which earned him a string of curses and warm hands palming his back before digging his nails into Ian’s back, as Ian fucked him at a steady pace.

Blue pulled Ian in for an uncoordinated kiss, the kiss sending chills down Ian’s spine. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Ian mumbled against their lips as he sped up the pace, “I love you so much.” He trailed kisses down to Blue’s neck, sucking and nibbling at the soft spots on Blue's neck.

Soon enough, Blue came all over Ian’s hand, crying out in pleasure, as Ian came inside Blue. Both men panted, Ian slowly pulling out of Blue. Blue’s hand made its way to Ian’s cheek, looking at Ian with pure love and adulation. Ian’s breath hitched in his throat, before leaning down and kissing his love zealously. Blue didn’t have to say those words back; Ian knew Blue loved him back, with the way he tenderly touched and the way he looked at Ian. It was as if Blue was radiating love for Ian, the warmth from the radiation enveloping Ian in a tight embrace.

“Love of my life,” Blue said against their lips. Ian’s heart swelled in his chest, and Blue gave him a soft, brisk kiss before mumbling for Ian to get off of him. Ian obliged, lying on the bed before grabbing a dirty shirt and wiping his hand covered with cum, not bothering to put clothes on. Blue got up and eyed him lustily. “Ay, put clothes on. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you if you’re naked.”

“You don’t have to,” Ian replied, “touch all you want.” He did put sweatpants on, however, as Blue put pants and one of Ian’s shirts on. Ian’s shirt practically engulfed Blue, and made him look tiny. “You look so cute, babe.”

“Call me cute again, and I’ll rip your fuckin’ tongue out,” Blue said, no malice in his tone whatsoever. Ian gave Blue a brisk kiss—because he couldn’t keep his lips off of Blue, that was evident—which made the latter scoff. “You call that a kiss, Ginger?”

“No,” Ian replied, and shoved Blue against the wall, kissing him hungrily. The shorter man happily reciprocated, fingers tangling in red locks while running his other hand along Ian’s bare torso, committing his boyfriend’s abs and chest to memory. They kissed until their lips were swollen and sore, and Ian pulled back. “ _That’s_ what I call a kiss,” he added, breathlessly, before stepping back.

Blue grabbed his cigarette pack and his lighter, and took a stick out with fumbling fingers, mind still invested on the kiss. “Ay, Yev’s gonna be over for the weekend. Svetlana wants me to be a part of the kid’s life.” He asked, placing the stick between his swollen lips as he sat on the bed.

“Okay,” Ian replied as he watched his boyfriend lighting his cigarette, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, before taking a hit. “What’s going on with her and V and Kev? Saw Kev kissing her at Fiona’s wedding.” He plopped back on the bed next to his boyfriend.

“They’re part of some sexual cult,” Blue explained.

“Sexual cult?” Ian inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, man,” Blue replied, exhaling the smoke, “all three of them are in a relationship with each other. Or, in other words, a ‘thrupple’.”

“Ah,” Ian said, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar notion. “We should be a thrupple,” he teased, kissing Blue’s shoulder through the shirt.

“The fuck we should,” Blue said, turning his head to look at Ian incredulously. “I’d beat the shit out of the fucker if he tried kissing you.”

“I was kidding, baby,” Ian said, “I only have eyes for you.”

“Fuckin’ better,” Blue replied, eyes involuntarily travelling to Ian’s pink scars. “The meds make you feel numb, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ian said, and sapphire eyes bore into his, reflecting the sadness in his eyes. That’s what he loved about Blue; he didn’t pity Ian. He didn’t see Ian as a broken man. He didn’t see Ian as an object to fix. He saw Ian as a man that had been unluckily inherited his mother’s disorder, but still loved Ian nonetheless. Yeah, it’d hurt him to know that Ian inflicted pain on himself to feel something—it’d hurt Ian to know that if the roles were reversed—but he didn’t wearily eye Ian whenever Ian was around knives.

“You don’t get those urges at all anymore, right?” Blue asked, voice thick with worry.

“No,” Ian said, “hell, I haven’t felt numb in a long while. I feel happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So.. no suicidal thoughts or self-harm tendencies?” Blue asked, gnawing on his lip. “None at all?” Ian understood how important this was to Blue; knowing that Ian wouldn’t take his life, or hurt himself. Blue was struggling to put on his poker face mask, not look as scared as he feels, to hide the surge of emotions right under the surface, but struggling to do so. It hurt Ian seeing Blue look so anxious.

“No, baby,” Ian said, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” Blue’s shoulders sagged and he put out his cigarette and placed it in the ashtray, before grabbing Ian’s face and pressing his lips against Ian’s, the kiss translating everything Blue wanted to say, but not knowing how to.

Ian reciprocated, the kiss making his head spin and electricity surge through him. He could literally feel sparks flying eccentrically as he loses himself in those lips again, in Blue again. Blue gave him the thrill he so terribly needed to function properly. Blue filled his lungs, mingled with his blood, and was the light in Ian’s dark, dark tunnel.

 

***************

The next day, Ian unlocked the door to their apartment, weary from pretending to be cheery for most of the day. He hadn’t seen Blue at Patsy’s, which filled him with dread, as per usual. The paranoia—which always strangely seems to surface when Ian was working—didn’t help with burying the dread.

“Hey!” Mandy chirped, “how was work, honey?”

“The same, _honey_ ,” Ian replied, scrunching his face up in confusion at the random pet name Mandy gave him. His eyes landed on another woman sitting next to Mandy on the couch. The woman had doe eyes, big and innocent-like. Her hair was the colour of liquid gold, cascading in waves down her waist. She was slightly pudgy, and had an aura of kindness. “Who’s she?”

“Brielle,” the woman answered, “met Mandy at work.”

“She’s cool,” Mandy said, “thought I’d introduce her to the crew.”

“Who the fuck says ‘crew’ anymore, dork?” Ian teased, a smirk playing on his lips as Mandy flipped him off. “Mickey here?”

“Yeah,” Mandy answered, “he’s in the room.” Ian nodded and made a beeline towards their room, walking in without knocking.

“Ay!” Blue exclaimed, “knock, asswipe!” He was in the middle of putting his underwear on, while having nothing else on. Ian took a couple seconds to admire his boyfriend’s body; muscly arms with a bubble butt, and kissable, soft, creamy skin that Ian loved running his hands along.

“I’ll do what I want,” Ian replied, snapping out of his trance. Blue looked at Ian, a grin slowly widening on his perfect face. _Fuck,_ everything was perfect about him. “Where were you?” Ian asked, enveloping the shorter man in a hug after Blue successfully put his underwear on, dropping his face to tuck itself into Blue’s neck. The weariness and irritation Ian felt quickly dissipated, and the warm feeling of euphoria took their place as Blue looped his arms around Ian as well. Ian inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma of cologne and cigarette smoke.

“Work,” Blue replied, as per usual, “I take it you missed me?”

Ian inhaled deeply again before stepping back. You could say that Ian was borderline obsessed. “Yeah, I did.”

“Don’t understand why you’re fucking addicted to my smell or some shit,” Blue said, “not complaining, though.” Ian didn’t know how to explain it to him. Blue smelled of home, and comfort. Ian’s never truly felt at home with the Gallaghers, or with Andre really. He’s felt at home in Blue’s arms, with his face tucked in Blue’s neck. The world disappears and it’s just Blue and Ian. All the bullshit Ian’s been through dissipates for a while, like exhaled cigarette smoke; slowly billowing away.

So Ian settled with a shrug, because he didn’t know the right words to say. He’s never been good with words; he can’t translate the whirlwind of emotions he feels on the daily into a string of words, and he sure as hell can’t explain the amount of love he has for Blue. Fortunately, Blue understood Ian’s trouble with putting emotions into words, so he gives Ian a brisk kiss and uttered “missed you too” before putting his clothes on.

“I’m famished,” Ian said, only realizing the feeling of emptiness in his stomach.

“Fuck, me too,” Blue replied, tugging Ian’s shirt that he’s been wearing a lot on, before heading out of the room. “Mands, do we still have the dick cake?” He didn’t wait for Mandy’s answer, raiding the fridge.

“Dick-dick cake?” Brielle inquired, perplexed.

“Erotica birthday cake,” Mandy explained, “got it for my brother’s birthday.”

“Ginger,” Blue called, “you want the right or left nut?”

“Left,” Ian answered.

“Asshole, that’s the nut I wanted.”

“Too fuckin’ bad.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m the one who does the fucking between the two of us, though,” Ian flirted with a smirk. Mandy audibly protested at his flirting while Blue grinned at him and took both the nuts of the cake.

“You two are gay?” Brielle inquired, genuinely surprised.

“And together,” Mandy said, “that is, if you didn’t notice the gay promise rings.”

“I didn’t know you two were.. um..” she swallowed, as if the word “gay” was forbidden to say audibly.

“Spit it out, Goldie Locks,” Blue said, concentrated on shoveling the right nut in his mouth.

“Be nice,” Ian reminded Blue, which earned him an eye-roll and the middle finger from his boyfriend. He flipped Blue off and turned to Brielle, nodding. “Yeah, we are.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Brielle mumbled, picking at her shirt, “I-I don’t discriminate. I have a gay cousin. Ryan, his name is. You might know him.”

“Don’t know a Ryan,” Blue replied, indifferently. “Just cause we’re gay doesn’t mean we know _every_ other gay man.”

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to assume,” Brielle stammered.

“That's okay, Mickey’s just being an asshole,” Ian said. Blue looked up at Ian, and mockingly put a hand on his chest, feigning sadness.

“That hurts, Ginger,” Blue said way-too-dramatically. “You broke my heart.” Ian rolled his emerald eyes and mumbled an apology before kissing Blue’s shoulder through his shirt. Ian momentarily inhaled the scent he loved so much before diverting his attention to Mandy.

“Ay,” Ian said, “where’s Casey?”

“Probably fucking some skank,” Mandy spat out, rolling her sapphire eyes.

“Skank, huh?” Ian said, “have you met this apparent ‘skank’?”

“Don’t need to,” Mandy replied, “just know she is one.”

“She’s just jealous that her crush is out fucking someone else,” Blue interpolated nonchalantly.

“I don’t have a crush on him,” Mandy denied. Ian couldn’t help but find the conversation all-too-familiar. Over a year ago, it was Casey teasing Ian about his crush—which soon snowballed into love—on Blue, which Ian denied. Now, his boyfriend’s teasing Mandy about her crush on Casey, which Mandy denied. It felt amazing to not be crushing on someone, and not knowing if they liked you back.

It felt amazing to be in love with someone, and to have your love be reciprocated.

As Mandy and Blue bickered—like they almost always did—Ian watched them (more specifically, Blue), and how Blue’s eyebrows rose in the way Ian loved, making the arch of his eyebrows more prominent. Ian loved how Blue always had a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, and he loved Blue’s endless ticks. Most of all, Ian loved how Blue’s sapphire orbs occasionally found Ian’s, and he’d smile, eyes shining with happiness, crinkles appearing on the outer corner of his eyes; as if Ian being there with him filled his world with sunshine and rainbows and everything good. 

Both men moved over to Mandy and Brielle shortly eating the balls. Both siblings continued bickering after they did so, and Ian listened, lanky arms wrapped around his boyfriend, relishing in the jubilation washing over him.


	4. Chapter 4

The air was thick and humid around Ian as he watched people intoxicated on weed, alcohol or any other hard drug that was provided were dancing to the beat, sticking their tongues down each others’ throats, having sex upstairs, or passed out in various places of the gigantic house, oblivious to the chaotic party taking place.

Casey had thrown an ad hoc party at his place, and the place was trashed—red cups littering the floor, various liquids that Ian didn’t dare touch in puddles all around the floor and people crammed in tight spots. Ian was sure he was the only person sober.

Ian scanned the place to see if he could find either Mandy or Casey, but doubted that he would. The last he saw them, they were a tangle of limbs, making out. They were probably one of the _many_ couples that fucked off to have drunken sex. Ian didn’t care, either way. He took his phone out, and saw that Blue had texted Ian that he would come home soon. Ian was growing more and more suspicious of Blue’s job, with him coming home _hours_ later.

The heat in the house had become stifling, and Ian shoved his way outside, taking a lungful of the cool, night air. The breeze tousled Ian’s red locks slightly, and Ian leaned against the house, taking a cigarette stick out and lighting it. Parties fucking sucked when Ian was sober, and without anyone else keeping him company. He was mid-drag when his phone buzzed. It was Blue. He exhaled the smoke and answered hastily. “Hey.”

 _“Hi, Ginger,”_ Blue replied, his voice providing the warm feeling of euphoria that Ian was addicted to. Ian could hear the smile in Blue’s voice. _Fuck,_ that smile. It brightened Blue’s handsome face up, crinkles appearing out of his bright, sapphire eyes. Despite himself, Ian smiled. _“I miss you.”_

“I miss you too, babe,” Ian replied.

_“What’s all that noise?”_

“Casey’s impromptu party,” Ian replied, “pretty fucking sure I’m the only one here that’s fucking sober.”

 _“Good,”_ Blue said, _“well.. good that you’re sober. Drugs—”_

“Fuck with my meds,” Ian finished for him.

_“Christ, are we becoming one of those couples that—”_

“Finish each other’s sentences?” Ian laughed, “guess so. I mean, we’re—”

 _“Joined at the hip?”_ It was Blue’s turn to laugh, a sound that was music to Ian’s ears.

“We don’t spend much time anymore like we did before,” Ian replied.

 _“I know,”_ Blue said, _“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”_

“What is your job?” Ian inquired, gnawing on his lip, “kinda funny that I’m kept in the dark about my own boyfriend’s job.” He couldn’t help but feel irritation bubble inside him, and took a drag from his neglected cigarette.

Blue sighed. _“Ian..”_

“No, I wanna know. What is it? If it’s something that’s putting you in harm’s way, then—”

 _“It’s not,”_ Blue assured him. _“Listen, I’ll tell you later. I promise. I’m runnin’ out of time now, so I’ll see you at home. Okay?”_

It was Ian’s turn to sigh. “I guess.”

_“I love you, Ginger.”_

Ian couldn’t help but smile at the random confession of love from Blue. His heart swelled in his chest and butterflies fluttered violently in Ian’s stomach, as chills were sent down Ian’s spine. Ian wondered if he’d ever stop feeling this way for Blue. He had hoped not. “I love you, Blue.” Both men said goodbye to each other, neither wanting to hang up, but reluctantly did so with heavy hearts.

The familiar feeling of paranoia washed over Ian, as Ian suspiciously looked around. He wondered if he was imagining things—maybe it was being without Blue for so long that made him feel this way. He didn’t want to be that dependant on Blue. What if Blue decides that he doesn’t want Ian anymore? Will the paranoia hang over him constantly?

“Wild party,” a voice next to him said. Ian’s muscles tensed, as a whirlwind of pent up anger that Ian didn’t know was there, awakened. “Casey’s spur-of-the-moment parties are always wild. I missed ‘em.” Ian turned his head to look at the man. Champagne brown eyes bore into Ian’s emerald ones; the same eyes that once would make Ian’s breath hitch in his throat. Now, they fill him up with disgust.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Ian spat out, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Am I not allowed to be in the same party as you are, Ian?” Andre asked, “do you have some sort of restraining order against me that I don’t know about?” His voice was light, teasing almost. Ian didn’t reply. He figured that if he ignored his ex, his ex would fuck off. But Andre had other plans. “You look good. Better than I remembered. It’s been, what, over a year now? We have a lot to catch up on.”

“No,” Ian replied.

“No?”

“No,” Ian repeated, “I’m not gonna ‘catch up’ with the man that left me, and then coming back whenever he pleases. Besides, I have a boyfriend.” He flicked his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his foot.

“Boyfriend,” Andre nodded. “Is it the hot dude with the dark hair and blue eyes, and the knuckle tattoos?” Ian’s head snapped to look at his ex. His stomach tied in knots.

“How’d you know what he looked like?” Ian tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but failed to do so.

“Saw you at Patsy’s, baby,” Andre replied.

That explained the feeling of paranoia. His ex had been watching him. “Don’t call me that.”

“I miss what we had, baby,” Andre said, apparently ignoring Ian’s comment, “I know you do too.” Exasperation coursed through Ian’s veins. The feeling was strong, inviolable, taking over Ian’s conscious. Ian wanted to punch Andre, hurt him. But he didn’t.

“Go fuck yourself,” Ian said. Andre chuckled and pushed Ian against the house, which awakened the self-defence reflex Ian had buried. Ian punched Andre, months and months and _months_ of pent up anger that Ian didn’t know existed at Andre possessed Ian. The _smack_ of Ian’s fist connecting against Andre’s face was oddly satisfying, and ebbed away part of the anger.

Andre groaned, head snapping to the side violently and laughed bitterly. “You’re still mine, asshole.”

“Fuck off!” Ian exclaimed and shoved himself back into the house, heart pounding in his chest, the action filling Ian’s ears. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, as he made his way to the back door of the crammed house, and walked back to his apartment, only realizing the pain that engulfed his hand that he punched Andre with.

 

***************

Ian was mindlessly flipping through channels on TV, desperately trying to distract himself and calm his nerves. Andre was back, and possessive than ever. Ian considered telling Blue, but Blue would probably lose his shit and beat the guy to an inch of his life.

Ian sighed and turned the TV off, moving so he could lie on the couch and staring at the ceiling, committing all of the cracks to memory. He thought of anything else besides Andre. His mind landed on Blue, and Blue’s sapphire eyes, bright and beautiful, reflecting the emotions he tried to hide.

He was Blue’s. His heart was in Blue’s calloused hands. A piece of his soul was with Blue. He’s lived years without Blue, and now he doesn’t want to live without the raven-haired man.

“Ay,” a voice said, snapping Ian out of his thoughts. Blue walked over to where Ian’s head is. “Party sucked for you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ian said and sat up. “Mostly because you weren’t there.”

“You do realize that I would’ve been shitfaced if I _was_ there, right?” Blue replied, and straddled Ian’s lap. Ian didn’t reply and leaned in, slotting their mouths together. He didn’t want to sit and talk about their day; he wanted his tongue down Blue’s throat.

Blue’s hand palmed the back of Ian’s neck, as Ian looped an arm around Blue’s waist, pulling Blue closer. Ian nipped at Blue’s lower lip, making the older man open his mouth. Their tongues danced the familiar dance that never fails to send chills down Ian’s spine.

Blue trailed kisses down to Ian’s neck, and Ian dropped his head back to give Blue more room. “Missed you,” Blue said against the skin, “missed this.” He sucked on the soft skin.

“You were too busy at your job, a job that I have no idea about,” Ian replied. He knew it was bad timing but the question wouldn’t stop floating around in his head. Blue paused for a second before continuing the attack on Ian’s neck with his lips.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Blue said against his neck. “I got something else to take care of.” He rocked his hips against Ian’s, grinding his full chub against Ian’s, making the redhead groan in pleasure.

“Get up,” Ian said, and the older man obliged, both men walking back to their room. “Remember when I said I used to be a gay stripper?” Ian asked when they had gotten to their room, taking his phone out and picking out a song before taking his shirt off.

Blue sat back on the bed, grinning ear to ear. “Let’s see what you got, Magic Mike.”

“Magic Mike?” Ian smirked, and Blue rolled his sapphire eyes.

“I’m horny and want dick in my ass,” Blue replied, “not great at giving nicknames at the moment.” Ian’s smirk widened as he turned the music on and moved his hips to the music. Blue watched, attentively, and bit his lip when Ian straddled him and rubbed his ass on Blue’s hard-on, Blue’s sapphire eyes never leaving Ian’s face while his hands roamed Ian’s body.

Ian let himself get lost in the moment, let himself focus on giving his boyfriend a lap dance, let himself think of nothing but Blue’s nomadic hands, attaching his lips to Blue’s neck. Soon enough Blue pushed Ian back on the bed, and straddled Blue, while Ian hastily undressed his boyfriend. Ian grabbed the lube packet and ripped it open, as Blue licked down to Ian’s neck.

Ian slipped a finger inside Blue after coating it with lube, eliciting a moan from his boyfriend. He made quick work of opening Blue up, while Blue let out a guttural moan. “Fuck,” Ian said, and wrapped an arm around Blue’s waist, swiftly switching positions so Ian was on top. “Gonna give it to you good and hard.” He coated his dick with lube before thrusting into Blue.

Soft grunts and low moans filled the room as Ian drilled into Blue. Beads of perspiration appeared on Ian’s forehead. “Fuck, I’m gonna—” Blue shot white streams onto Ian and Ian shortly came afterwards, slowly pulling out. Ian got up and wiped Blue’s cum off of his body, as both men came down from their post-sex high.

“Job,” Ian said, panting as he pulled his underwear on.

“Jesus,” Blue sighed, “fuck. Alright. My job is gunrunning.”

“Like.. gun trafficking?”

“Exactly like.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Ian asked, his voice low. His boyfriend illegally exported guns.  _Christ._

Blue put his underwear on, sighing. “We’re not gonna get caught.”

“Yeah, until you do.”

“We _won’t_ ,” he said adamantly.

“You need to quit,” Ian said.

“I just can’t fucking quit!” Blue exclaimed, “besides, even if I did, I wouldn’t get hired anywhere else. I have a criminal record, plus my fucking tattoos won’t help me look any less thug-like. And I’m not working at Patsy’s.”

Ian stared at his boyfriend, and knew he was right. Blue had a criminal record as long as the Eiffel Tower. Besides, his demeanor screamed “thug.” Ian’s head desperately tried to find arguments, any words of assurance that Blue would get a job, but failed. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Ian said lamely, "Patsy's is better than nothing."

“I’m not a fucking beggar,” Blue groused, “it’s either this or panhandling. I can't deal with kissing ass all day.”

Ian sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck, the jubilation from the sex quickly dissipating. Irritation of not coming up with a solution replaced the jubilation, sinking its claws into him. “I just don’t want you to go to jail,” Ian replied wearily.

Blue took quick strides towards Ian and caressed the side of Ian’s neck, thumb soothingly rubbing the skin. “I won’t, okay?” Blue assured him, his voice soft, as if he was talking to a child. “We’re being extra careful with the weapons.” Ian nodded; he didn’t know what else to do other than trust his boyfriend. “Let’s take a shower and then hit the sack. Sound good?”

Ian nodded again, just realizing the heaviness of his eyelids and the tiredness seeping into his bones. “A shower sounds nice,” he mumbled tiredly, letting Blue guide him to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all got your answer. was gonna hold out for longer but i was like "nah."
> 
> \- Gaylagher


	5. Chapter 5

Ian’s paranoia had vanished; in its wake, irritation settled itself in him. Andre would sit at the booth and give Ian smiles and waves—as if the past year didn’t happen and they were still together.

Ian’s knuckles had bruised a couple days after he had decked his ex in the face, and Blue didn’t miss the dark purple and blue marks blooming on the knuckles, standing out against the pallid skin. Ian had come up with a lie that he was sure Blue didn’t believe. Much to his relief, Blue let the subject drop.

“Hey, Ian,” Andre chirped, smiling his charming smile. At one point, that smile would have Ian putty in Andre’s hands. Now, they had no effect on Ian whatsoever. “How are you today?” Purple and blue bloomed around his eye, which accentuated the puffiness of his swollen eye. It stood out against Andre's caramel skin, calling attention to itself.

“I’d be better if you weren’t here,” Ian replied.

“Ouch. That stings.”

“Good,” Ian replied, hiding the hurricane of anger under the surface. Ever since Andre left, he has become exceptionally good at hiding his feelings. However, his love for Blue was too strong to contain, and had escaped Ian’s restraint. Not that Ian minded. Ever since then, Blue had the ability to see through Ian’s poker face mask, see through his “I’m totally okay” facade. He could read Ian like a book.

“That’s how this is gonna be, then?” Andre asked, voice trembling at the hurt it held. Ian fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I came back for you.”

“You also left me,” Ian replied, “and I moved on. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy.”

“I’m the bad guy then?”

“Guess so.”

Andre huffed in frustration. “What will it take to get you to forgive me?” His champagne brown eyes held sadness in them, and if Ian had any positive emotions towards his ex, he’d feel bad.

 “Nothing. I’m in love with another man.”

“What, so you plan to marry him?” Andre inquired, “walk down the aisle like a couple of old queens? Proclaim your love to ‘God and the world’ and shit? Spend the rest of your life with him?”

“Yeah,” Ian replied coolly. He hid the fact that Blue probably didn’t want to get married in the future. The last time he got married, it was with a whore that his father forced him to marry, ultimately pushing him further back in the closet. He didn’t vocally say that, though. "Do me a favour, and fuck off, man. Stalking me isn't going to win me over."

"What will, then?" Andre stupidly asked.

"Nothing," Ian replied matter-of-factly. "Take a fucking hint and leave me alone."

Much to Ian’s relief, a customer had called for Ian’s attention, and Ian went over to help, while his mind couldn’t help but dwell on the unfortunate fact that Blue and Ian won’t ever get married. A dull ache manifested itself in Ian’s chest, but was gradually worsening the more Ian thought about it. 

Marriage had never really struck Ian as something that he wanted to do, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. It seemed unrealistic, which had upset him more than he thought it would.

 

***************

Soft inhales and exhales filled the room as sunlight streamed through the curtains, brightening the apartment. Ian and Blue were fast asleep, a thin blanket draped over their lower halves, shielding part of their naked bodies. Ian’s lanky arm was tightly draped over Blue’s waist, their fingers intertwined. Blue’s bare back was firmly against Ian’s bare chest.

Ian slowly regained consciousness, inhaling deeply, his eyes meeting a pile of messy dark hair falling onto soft, creamy, kissable, pasty skin. He tucked his face into the dip where Blue’s neck and shoulder met, breathing in the scent of home before peppering kisses on the skin.

Ian heard a sleepy chuckle from his boyfriend, indicating that he was awake. “Morning,” Blue croaked and lifted their intertwined hands to his lips, kissing Ian’s hand tenderly. It was one of the rare mornings where they woke up in each other’s embrace, and they enjoyed every second of it. Both men were in bliss.

“Mm, morning,” Ian replied, his voice deeper than usual. He continued to kiss every bit of skin he could, never getting enough, always wanting more. “Slept well?”

“Like a fucking baby,” Blue answered, turning his head to the side. “Is that the saying?”

“I’m sure there’s no ‘fuck’ in it,” Ian replied.

“I missed this,” Blue admitted, ignoring Ian’s reply.

“You missed my smartass replies?” Ian inquired. He knew what Blue was talking about; Ian was just playing dumb.

“That wasn’t a smartass reply,” Blue said, “it was mediocre at best. Quit flattering yourself.”

“You’re a fucking expert at smartass replies now?” Ian asked.

“Fuck yeah,” Blue replied, and his phone buzzed. Blue groaned and blindly reached for his phone, answering it. “The fuck you want?” Pause. “Yeah, I’m gonna pick him up, keep your fucking shirt on.” He huffed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before turning to Ian. “Gotta pick Yev up, man. I’ll be back in an hour at most.”

“Alright,” Ian replied and watched his boyfriend pull a pair of pants on before heading to the bathroom before doing the same, walking in the bathroom and pissing while Blue brushed his teeth. Ian was a bundle of nerves, but succeeded in hiding it. He was scared that Yevgeny might not like him, which was irrational. Ian was good with kids. He’s had a lifetime experience with kids. He shouldn’t feel anxious.

But he did. Somehow, Yevgeny was different from Debbie and Carl and Liam. Yevgeny was his _boyfriend’s_ kid—that minor difference had made his stomach tether itself in uncomfortably taut knots. Ian pulled his pants up after peeing, exhaling deeply. Yevgeny’s just another kid.

Blue spit the paste out before rinsing his mouth, and looked up at Ian when Ian flushed. “Something’s off with you,” he stated. _Of course._ Blue could read Ian like a book, no matter how hard Ian worked to bottle his emotions up.

“I’m fine,” Ian bluffed, walking to the basin and picking his toothbrush up.

“Bullshit.” Blue leaned against the doorway, crossing his muscular arms over his broad, bare chest. “You gonna tell me or am I going to have to figure it out?”

Ian put the paste on the bristles of the brush, before putting it in his mouth and commenced brushing his teeth. Blue shook his head, but didn’t divert his attention from his lover’s face.

“You’re worried about my kid not liking you.” He didn’t ask; it was a statement. Ian paused, before continuing to brush his teeth, silently confirming Blue’s speculation. Blue’s sapphire eyes never left Ian, even when he bent down to spit the paste out and rinse his mouth. “He’s gonna like you.”

Those four words carried enough buoyancy for the both of them. Ian looked up at his boyfriend, sapphire eyes shining with confidence. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Blue replied, “he likes me and I suck at this shit. I had no kid siblings to practice it on.”

“This is different,” Ian argued, opening the cabinet door and taking out his pills from the medicine cabinet.

“How is it fucking different?” Blue inquired, his perfect, dark eyebrows screwing in mystification, “enlighten me.”

“He’s not my kid brother,” Ian explained while taking the pills out of the orange containers with his name stamped on it. “He’s my boyfriend’s kid.” Blue’s eyebrows scrunched up even more in confusion.

“He’s still a kid,” Blue argued, “why does it matter who’s fucking kid he is?” Ian walked to the kitchen, hand cupped with the pills he needed to take, Blue following suit. Ian didn’t know why; he just knew he was nervous.

“I don’t know, okay?” Ian admitted, grabbing a glass of water and swallowing his pills before making breakfast, the mouth-watering smell of breakfast filling the air. “It just is.”

“It’s nothing to fucking worry about,” Blue said, “he’s a happy kid who loves everyone. Don’t know how such a happy kid could come from two cynical fucking parents.”

“It’s the eighth wonder of the world,” Ian tried to joke. Much to his relief, Blue chuckled. Ian felt a pair of soft lips on his shoulder blade, which sent chills down Ian’s spine.

“Oh yeah,” Blue chuckled. “Ay, I really have to go or else Lana will have my ass. I’ll be back in an hour at most.” He walked back into the room and grabbed one of his numerous tank tops before walking to the door, leaving Ian to deal with his bundle of nerves.


	6. Chapter 6

“Jimmy Choo’s or stilettos?” Mandy inquired, holding two nearly identical high heels up for Brielle to inspect them. One was the colour of crimson, with the inside and the pencil heel jet black. The other one was scarlet red with an ankle strap. Ian watched the fuss over the shoes, Yevgeny on his lap. He had proven both women that he was in fact not the stereotypical gay best friend that had an amazing taste in fashion.

“Definitely stiletto,” Brielle answered.

“That’s what I was thinking!” Mandy exclaimed. She and Casey were going out on a date and she was raiding her wardrobe to fish out anything pretty. She was planning on wearing all kinds of red, apparently.

Yevgeny was busy playing with a frayed toy on Ian’s lap. Ian didn’t know why he was so anxious; Yev was easy and had warmed up to Ian in no time. He had almost distracted Ian from his intrusive thoughts about Andre. Ian didn’t feel any positive emotion towards him; the only emotion that has been awakened since he slinked back into Ian’s life was irritation.

Ian surrendered his heart to Blue. He was madly in love with the man. Hell, it’s almost been two years since Ian realized the magnitude of his feelings for Blue, and the sight of Blue never failed to make butterflies flutter frantically inside Ian; it never failed to make Ian’s heart beat erratically inside the restraint of his chest. Andre was merely an inconvenience to him now.  _An inconvenience that Blue doesn't know about ,_ a small voice nagged. 

Ian planned to tell Blue, but the mere thought of telling Blue—and Blue finding out how long it's been since Andre coming back; thus getting mad at Ian for not telling him sooner—made Ian's stomach tie in tight knots and his heartbeat accelerate in nervousness. He wanted to, he was just too fucking nervous to utter those words to Blue, in fear of his reaction.

“Your nephew’s so cute, Mands,” Brielle complimented, snapping Ian out of his tangle of thoughts. Yevgeny was; he had light blond hair falling onto milky white skin, and big, green eyes. Brielle lightly touched the chubby cheek, smiling at Yevgeny. “And he’s such a happy baby.”

“That’s a miracle,” Mandy responded, “both of his parents are cynical and grouchy. He’s happy and optimistic.”

“He’s only three,” Ian argued, “it’d be troubling if he was cynical now.” Ian thought of the beaming, affectionate man Blue was behind closed doors; the man with a heart full of love, with all his guards down, presenting his true colours to Ian like a gift. It was hard to believe that Mickey Milkovich, Southside thug, and his Blue were the same person sometimes.

“Guess so,” Mandy shrugged. Both women dived into a conversation about Mandy’s date with Casey, and Ian went back to taking care of Yevgeny, glancing at the doorway in hopes that Blue would barge in and make Ian’s heart beat erratically just by existing.

 

***************

Ian couldn’t sleep. The bed had seemed bigger and lonelier without Blue’s body to hold. His mind was racing with thoughts that refused to be silenced long enough for Ian to fall asleep. 

He considered talking to Blue about Andre for the umpteenth time. Blue would beat the shit out of the fucker, no doubt, and he’d tell Ian to quit and look for another job. Ian would be lying to himself if he didn’t want to quit—he didn’t want to be a waiter for the rest of his life. The money he earned depended on how much his customers would tip, and that would vary.

His body yearned for the comforting smell of his boyfriend, for soft fingers grazing Ian’s body, for full lips to press against Ian, for his boyfriend. Ian sighed. Gunrunning robbed Ian of Blue, which wasn’t good for Ian’s increasing obsession with the man.

Ian closed his eyes, but when he did he thought of Blue. The thought of marriage would seem more and more appealing to Ian; something about Blue being his forever made Ian’s heart accelerate. A faint smile appeared on his lips at the fantasy of Blue being his husband.

He was young, but he was positive that Blue was the one. No one ever made Ian as ecstatic as Blue did. No one provided the thrill and passion that Ian had desperately needed in his life. Blue’s touches would set Ian’s insides ablaze; his kisses would send shivers down Ian’s spine.

To Ian, Blue would never become boring. He’s spent so much time with touching Blue’s milky skin that one would think he’d be bored of the body, but Ian wasn’t. The more he touched, the more he wanted.

He thought of how he still failed to tell Blue about Andre’s return. Blue deserved to know. If the roles were reversed, Ian would want to know that Blue’s ex was back and was trying to get Blue back. He made a mental note to tell Blue when Blue came home.

Ian heard the creak of his door open, and opened his eyes. “Hey,” Blue greeted, “didn’t wake you up, did I?” He lowered himself onto the bed, next to Ian.

“No,” Ian replied and closed the distance between them by slotting their lips together, and Blue immediately reciprocated the kiss, hand landing on Ian’s cheek. Both men opened their mouths, tongues dancing lazily. Ian had craved this; craved his puffy, pink lips and his tongue in Ian’s mouth. Ecstasy washed over Ian, as his hands roamed his boyfriend’s body.

Blue tilted his head upwards slightly as Ian kissed downwards to his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of cologne and cigarette smoke while sucking on the neck. “The fuck?” Blue exclaimed as Ian bit on the skin gently, chuckling slightly. “Bitch, that hurt.”

“Sorry,” Ian replied, not sorry at all.

“C’mere, Tough Guy,” Blue said, and started wrestling with Ian, both men laughing and trying to pin the other man under him. However, Blue had managed to pin Ian down, and lowered his head to Ian’s neck, biting the pallid skin.

“Ow!” Ian exclaimed when Blue lifted his head, “I did not bite that hard.” He playfully narrowed his eyes.

“Yes you did, you fucking liar.” Blue grinned and leaned down, kissing the sore spot gently. Ian tilted his head back, and closed his eyes, not complaining when Blue’s lips moved down to another spot on Ian’s neck, and sucking on the milky skin. Ian was in bliss, while Blue’s full, pink lips set his insides on fire.  _Tell him,_  a small voice urged. _He needs to know._

“Ay, I need to tell you something,” Ian said, fighting the urge of forgetting the thought of keeping a huge secret from Blue, to lose himself in the moment, to lose himself in Blue again; to save the conversation later. Blue’s hands trailed down Ian’s torso, his lips following suit, the sound of lips pulling apart from skin filling their room.

“It can wait,” Blue said against Ian’s skin, while hastily pulling Ian's grey sweatshirt down. He wanted to taste Ian, to feel Ian's cock heavy on his tongue.

“But it’s—” Ian’s initial sentence was cut off with a groan as Blue’s mouth sucked on the head of Ian’s cock. “No, Mickey, stop.” Blue stopped abruptly, surprised to hear Ian using his actual name, pulling off with a pop.

“What’s going on?” Blue inquired, furrowing his eyebrows. Ian took a deep breath, stomach tying itself into tight knots. He looked into deep sapphire eyes. Ian opened his mouth, willing himself to say the words. "Ian," Blue added, his voice wavering slightly, "what's going on?" 

“Andre’s back.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Blue laughed in incredulity. However, Ian’s expression was solemn, and Blue’s smile slowly faded away. “When did he come back?” Blue inquired, “recently?”

“Yeah,” Ian confirmed.

“How recently?”

“I saw him at Casey’s party,” Ian answered, “he tried talking to me.” He braced himself for his boyfriend’s reaction to Ian not telling him sooner. Blue’s sapphire eyes hardened.

“What’d he say?” Blue asked, although he had an idea of what their topic was.

“He.. he wants me back,” Ian replied reluctantly, emerald eyes watching his boyfriend cautiously. “He stays at the diner and he’s tryin’ to win me over.” Blue nodded and got off of the bed. It was almost eerie to Ian at how tranquil Blue was. Ian expected Blue to explode like a bomb, to yell at Ian.

“Is he?” Blue asked vaguely, sapphire eyes looking at anything but Ian’s face.

“What? No!” Ian exclaimed, “Jesus, I don’t have feelings for him. I love you.” Ian hoped that Blue believed his confession of love. He needed Blue to know that Ian didn’t want Andre like that.

Blue scoffed. “You say that like you’re sure your feelings for me won’t go away.”

“It won’t,” Ian assured him.

“Don’t,” Blue said vaguely.

“Don’t what?” Ian inquired.

“Don’t get my fucking hopes up, man!” Blue exclaimed, finally looking at Ian.

“I’m not!” Ian yelled back, irritation bubbling inside him. He understood why Blue didn’t believe that Ian would stick around; Blue saw himself as a violent thug whose occupation was gunrunning. Blue thought he was Southside trash.

Ian saw a devoted, loyal man whose existence lit up any room he walked into. He saw a man who had heaps and heaps of love that was restrained inside him, dying to be let out. He saw a man who had been beaten one too many times by his father; a man whose exterior was rough that hid the softness that he buried inside him. Ian saw a boy who had to grow a thick skin to protect himself from the world that was painted to be nothing but cruel. He saw a man who was beautiful, inside and out.

“I’m not,” Ian repeated, his voice softer this time. Blue had his arms crossed over his chest, sapphire eyes reflecting everything his impassive facade hid; insecurity, sadness, pain. “Okay? I’m stayin’ by your side from here on out.”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Ian confirmed, and Blue smiled, crawling onto the bed and slotting their lips together. Ian reciprocated the kiss eagerly. The kiss had no tongue but was passionate as Blue’s hands touched every part of body he could. Ian felt like he was soaring; free as a bird.

Ian reluctantly peeled his lips off of Blue’s when his lungs demanded oxygen. Ian lowered his head onto Blue’s chest after the raven-haired man laid on his back. “You’re gonna quit,” Blue said, an arm wrapped around Ian, fingernails scratching the skin lightly.

“I will,” Ian promised.

“You ain’t got a criminal record, right?” Blue asked.

“Nope,” Ian replied, “I have a squeaky clean record. Almost got arrested, though.”

“No way,” Blue said, “what’d you almost get arrested for?”

“Grand theft auto,” Ian replied.

“You stole a fucking car?” Blue asked, incredulously.

“Not me,” Ian said, “Lip and I were borrowing Jimmy’s car. He was Fiona’s boyfriend at the time. He stole the car, and we got caught.”

“Jesus,” Blue said, “you wouldn’t be able to last a day in juvie.”

“Bullshit,” Ian argued, “I would.”

“You would not,” Blue teased.

“Asshole,” Ian said, and both men talked until sleep had taken over them, the heavy feeling seeping into them. Ian dreamed of luminous blue eyes, soft raven hair, and milky white skin while he was cocooned in strong arms.

 

****************

Ian had quit at Patsy’s, and he couldn’t help but feel like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Andre was his past now, and it was liberating. Ian didn’t have to feel the heavy feeling of stress in him every time he woke up just to go to work.

However, Ian needed a new job.

“I’m probably going to have to take my GED,” Ian practically groaned. Brielle, Casey, Ian and Mandy were all lounging in the living room, laziness washing over them. Ian’s back was against the armrest of the couch while his lanky legs were resting on the couch, using the whole thing to himself.

“Sucks,” Mandy mumbled, head resting against Casey’s chest. Casey had his arms wrapped around Mandy, fingers lightly scratching the clothed back.

“You could do porn,” Brielle suggested.

“Over Mickey’s dead body,” Casey scoffed, “the man’s possessive as shit.”

“Porn is off the table,” Ian replied, paying no attention to Casey’s comment. His mind thought of when he did a bareback porno. At the time it had seemed perfectly fine, but now Ian realized how stupid it was. Fortunately the man Ian fucked was clean.

The four of them stayed silent, Ian’s thoughts racing to Blue immediately. Ian’s ears strained to hear the click of the door and his boyfriend’s beautiful voice cutting through the silence, but it didn’t. If Ian didn’t feel sluggish, he’d feel disheartened at the lack of Blue.

“You guys ever think Mickey’d be the marriage kinda guy?” Ian inquired, even though he knew the answer to the question. Blue wasn’t the type to proclaim his love to everyone. However, he wasn’t the type to be in a relationship, or wear promise rings.

“Probably not,” Mandy answered truthfully, “maybe. Mick’s full of surprises. Why? Where is this coming from?”

Brielle got a second wind and sat up, widening her doe eyes at Ian. “Are you planning on proposing to him?” Her face was split into a grin, face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

“Not yet,” Ian replied. “He’s married to Svetlana.” A dull ache settled itself in the middle of Ian’s chest. Svetlana had what Ian wanted. Ian absentmindedly toyed with the cool, silver ring wrapped around his ring finger. Despair sank its claws into Ian.

“So you want to?” Brielle inquired.

“Yup.” Ian didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and hoped that his one word answer would get Brielle to drop the subject.

“Then do it,” Brielle urged, clearly not taking the hint. “He’ll say—” she abruptly stopped talking when she heard the click of the door. Ian’s heart beat erratically and butterflies wreaked havoc in his stomach.

“Hey,” Blue greeted and Ian sat up, trying to control his frantic heart rattling his ribcage.

“Hi,” Ian greeted back, and Blue smiled at the voice of his lover, sitting next to him.

“I’m gonna get food,” Brielle announced, eyes darting between Blue and Ian before sauntering to the kitchen. Ian lowered his head onto Blue’s shoulder, and nuzzled his face in Blue’s neck, inhaling the addicting scent of Blue, before lifting his head and planting a chaste kiss on Blue’s lips.

“Figured out what job to do?” Blue inquired, his sapphire eyes centimetres away from Ian’s. Ian looked at the miniscule freckles on Blue’s face, and the brown freckle on Blue’s upper lip, standing out against the pink lip.

Ian kissed the freckle on his lip, which earned him a quizzical look from his boyfriend. “Still a work in progress,” Ian replied. He slotted their mouths together, wanting more of Blue the more he kissed him.

“We’re still here,” Mandy informed the couple. Ian reluctantly peeled his lips off of Blue.

“Really, Mandy?” Blue said, raising his eyebrows.

“Cry me a fucking river,” Mandy replied while rolling her eyes.

Ian listened to the two bicker, lowering his head onto Blue’s shoulder again before kissing the skin of Blue’s shoulder that the tank top didn’t cover. Lethargy had settled itself in Ian once again, and worries of his job and marriage slowly slipped away from his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Ian woke up to a pair of soft lips pressed against the back of his neck, and smiled sleepily, eyes still closed. “Wake up,” Blue said against the pallid, freckled skin, “I’m horny as a motherfucker. Need you to fill me up with your big cock.”

And just like that, the sleepiness in Ian’s bones vanished into thin air as he opened his eyes and moved to face Blue, gently pushing Blue onto his back. Blue grinned and bit his lip as Ian leaned down to kiss him vehemently, pressing the inside of their lips together. Their tongues danced the familiar dance as their hands hastily undressed each other.

Ian pulled back to grab the lube when Blue stopped him. “Already prepped myself,” he informed Ian. Ian’s cock slightly hardened at the thought of Blue prepping himself and stroked his dick so it was fully hard.

Ian lined his cock up with Blue’s opening, while taking a second to admire Blue’s perfect features looking up at him; his perfect, plump lips, his sapphire eyes—which was fully blown with lust at the moment—and his soft, creamy white skin. “You’re fucking perfect,” Ian said.

“I’m far from fucking perfect, Ginger,” Blue denied, his eyes travelling to Ian’s shoulder. “You gonna fuck me or are you gonna keep starin’ at me?”

“I’m gonna keep staring at you,” Ian joked, before thrusting into Blue, groaning in pleasure as Blue gasped a bit. He dropped his head to suck at Blue’s neck, inhaling the perfect scent of his perfect boyfriend as he jackhammered into Blue.

Blue was a moaning mess underneath Ian, nails scratching into Ian’s back. Ian was in too much pleasure to focus on the pain on his back. Ian angled his hips to hit Blue’s prostate, Blue’s moans gradually getting louder. “Fuck, right there, baby,” Blue moaned, rolling his head back onto the pillow. Ian increased the speed, his cock still hitting Blue’s prostate. The slapping of skin filled the room, mingling with soft grunts.

“You close?” Ian asked between grunts.

“Yeah, _fuck_ ,” Blue moaned, shooting his load onto Ian, the redhead not being too far behind as he came inside Blue.

Both men panted at the fucking, Ian slowly pulling out of Blue before collapsing next to him. Both men turned to their sides, facing each other, the tips of their noses touching.

“Best way to wake up,” Ian grinned.

“Thought the best way to wake up was having me in your arms, or some gay shit like that,” Blue responded.

“Second best, then,” Ian corrected, draping an arm around Blue’s waist, planting a brisk kiss on his lips. “I love waking up with you in my arms.”

“That’s gay, Ginger,” Blue teased, smiling as Ian lifted his hand to caress his cheek.

“You just got fucked in the ass by another dude,” Ian said, “doesn’t get much gayer than that.” Blue’s eyes widened in mock surprise, lips parted slightly.

“I swear to God I thought it was a girl!” Blue said sarcastically. Ian chuckled.

“You thought wrong,” Ian replied and Blue gave him a chaste kiss. Ian admired Blue’s full, soft, pink lips, and his freckles that could only be noticed if Ian’s face was millimetres away from his, and his sapphire eyes. God, those eyes. They were bright and twinkling with love and happiness.

Ian thought back to when he first met Blue—Blue’s eyes were hard, filled with anger and sadness. He remembered how they lingered on Ian before Blue reluctantly looked away. “You ever think, back when we met, this is where we’d be?”

“No,” Blue answered honestly, “I didn’t think I would ever fall in love, or be in a relationship. I just didn’t get the hype of it.” His hand rested on the side of Ian’s neck, and Ian’s heart beat erratically. Ian was sure that Blue could feel his pulse thump frantically under his calloused palm.

“I’ve never felt this happy ever,” Ian confessed, “you make me feel.. alive.”

“Alive?” Blue inquired.

“Yeah,” Ian nodded, “the antidepressants make me feel emotionally detached. Makes me feel dead inside. But you..” Ian inhaled and exhaled slowly through his mouth. “You make me feel emotions again. It’s hard to explain, and I suck at explain—” he was silenced by two lips pressing against his, as Blue moved his hand to tangle his tattooed fingers in Ian’s fiery locks.

“Love of my fucking life,” Blue said when he pulled back, his lips grazing Ian’s ever so slightly. Ian was blown away by the five words that came out of his lover’s mouth, and pulled him back in for a passionate kiss, overwhelmed by the weight of the words.

 

***************

Blue had to go back to his job—which deeply frustrated Ian—so Ian decided to pay his family a visit. The last time he’d seen all of them together was at Fiona’s and Sean’s catastrophic wedding.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about us,” his big sister said, pulling Ian in for a hug. Her hair was a mess of brown and neon blue, while her doe eyes were gleaming and face was flushed.

“Almost did,” Ian joked, “nice sex hair.” He pulled back from the hug.

“I’m on Tinder now,” Fiona replied, putting her hands on her slim waist, “it’s fuckin’ great.” Ian nodded, and thought back to when he had meaningless sex with men whose names didn’t get stored in Ian’s head, simply because they weren’t worth learning. Ian was fucking them to either let off steam or to temporarily forget that he liked Blue. Of course, he didn’t need that anymore.

“You getting serious with Mickey, huh?” Lip inquired, jade eyes fixed on Ian’s silver ring.

“I am,” Ian replied.

“Planning to marry soon?” Lip asked, smirking slightly.

“Maybe,” Ian replied vaguely, mind filled with thoughts of Blue being his husband. He heard faint voices ascending from upstairs—one being Carl’s and the other being unrecognizable. When Carl got to where Ian was, Ian noticed he was accompanied by another boy around Carl’s age. The boy was lean, with soft grey eyes that had specks of gold in them. His hair was the colour of rich soil, messily falling onto sun-kissed skin.

“Ian!” Carl exclaimed enthusiastically, embracing his older brother. Ian hugged back. “How are you?”

“Good,” Ian answered, “how are you?”

“I’m great,” Carl replied and pulled back. “Got into military school. Leaving tomorrow.”

Ian raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at his little brother who once could’ve passed as a sociopath. His stomach flipped slightly at the words “military school” and he swallowed down the feeling of self-pity. _He_ fucked his chances of going into the army, there was no point in feeling sorry for himself. However, his heart swelled with pride for his brother. “That’s great, man,” Ian responded with a smile. His emerald eyes landed on his brother’s friend, who was standing awkwardly behind Carl.

Carl followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s, um.. my friend Alex. Alex, that’s my brother Ian.”

“Hey,” Alex smiled and shook his hand. Ian’s eyes flitted between the two boys and he bit his lip, willing himself not to jump to conclusions. He had noticed that Lip had gone over to the ratty couch and muttered “I’m gonna go to Lip” before making his way to Lip and plopping down next to his older brother.

“So..” Ian started, his voice lower than usual, “Alex and Carl?”

“They’re just friends,” Lip said dismissively.

“That’s what all closeted non-hetero men say,” Ian stated matter-of-factly.

“That’s also what all hetero men who are out and proud say,” Lip replied sardonically. “Even if they were, we shouldn’t push Carl to come out to us. He will when the time’s right.”

“Says the guy who went through my shit and found my magazine of naked gay men,” Ian pointed out.

“Listen,” Lip said after taking a healthy sip of his drink, “I wasn’t _purposefully_ trying to find that shit. I thought it would be full of tits and stuff. It was accidental.” Both brothers sat in comfortable silence, watching whatever was on TV. “You and Mickey talk about getting married?”

“No,” Ian replied, “he probably won’t want to. Anyways, we’re still pretty young.”

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “but you’re obviously crazy for each other. You guys are wearing promise rings and shit. You’re living together. He’s seen you at your worst and didn’t leave. You know that he has a kid and a former hand-whore for a wife—”

“You just said one of the reasons why we can’t do it,” Ian interpolated, disheartened, “he’s already married.”

“Then do what we did when V and Kev got married,” Lip stated.

“Get a priest to perform a fake wedding by tempting him with Carl?” Ian inquired, looking at Lip quizzically.

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Lip confessed with a small smile, “but I meant, have a marriage licence notarized but with a different date, but never file with the state.”

“How do you remember that, but not the fact that we used Carl as bait to lure in a pedophile priest?” Ian asked.

“I don’t know, Ian, stay on topic.”

“We’re not even engaged yet,” Ian reminded Lip, “there’s no point in impromptu planning for a wedding that’s probably not going to happen.” His heart felt like lead inside his chest when those words had escaped his mouth, sinking down to his stomach. He wasn’t going to marry Blue for a number of reasons; the biggest one being that Blue probably wouldn’t want to.

He felt tears prickle at his eyes and he willed himself not to cry, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat, emerald eyes focused on whatever the fuck was on the TV. There was no point in crying about it.

“Ay, is there beer in the fridge?” Ian asked, making sure his voice didn’t waver and show Lip the amount of sadness he was struggling to restrain at the moment.

“Yeah, but you can’t have alcoholic beverages,” Lip reminded him, but it was no use. Ian opened the fridge door and grabbed the beer, not giving a shit if he’ll be shitfaced in two seconds or if the alcohol will make his blood toxic due to the Lithium.

He was gonna get drunk.


	9. Chapter 9

He stumbled his way home, inebriated and lightheaded. His fingers fumbled with the keys, struggling to line it up with his keyhole. Somehow, he managed and staggered inside the apartment, closing the door. His lanky legs weren’t working properly, tripping over themselves, which caused him to fall flat on his face with an “oof.” He heard a door open and close and footsteps ascending towards Ian.

“The fuck?” a familiar voice said. “Ian?” Mandy slowly pulled Ian back on his feet. “You reek of alcohol. You can’t drink on Lithium, it gets you hammered easily and—”

“I know,” Ian interrupted, “you don’t have to remind me.” He swayed slightly, looking at his best friend. “Mickey here?”

“No,” Mandy answered and Ian staggered to the fridge, craving the bitter taste of beer again. “Ian, you can’t.”

Irritation bubbled inside Ian and he was too drunk to restrain it. “Will everyone fucking _stop_ tellin’ me what I can and can’t do? I’m not a kid! I’ve had it with people trying to control me!” Mandy’s cerulean eyes widened slightly at the sudden outburst. Guilt replaced the anger Ian was feeling, and he sighed. Mandy didn’t mean to anger him; she was being a good best friend. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Mandy replied, “I just don’t think you.. should.” Her voice was soft, carefully constructing her sentence so it wouldn’t anger Ian. Ian swallowed his anger. He didn’t want people to feel like they were walking on eggshells when they were conversing with him.  He didn’t want them to think that words had an impact on him; but they did.

“I get it,” Ian sniffed, his voice softer than before, thinly hiding the waves of emotions he felt at the moment. “I’m tired of people telling me what to do. I’m a fucking adult.” He staggered to the couch, plopping on it. Mandy sat beside him.

“We know,” Mandy responded, “we’re looking out for you.”

“Don’t need anyone looking out for me.”

“You do when you’re going out and getting drunk.”

“This was _one time_ ,” Ian replied, sighing. “Can’t even drink, can’t get high, can’t get married to the love of my life without doing it illegally—”

“Hold up,” Mandy interrupted. “You feel that strongly about him?”

Ian toyed with his silver ring. "Thought it was obvious." He was letting out everything he worked so hard to bottle up. He was filled to the brim with pent up emotions and Mandy had somehow got the emotions to pour out of him. “He probably won’t want to, anyways. That shit hurts.”

“I’ll bet,” Mandy sighed. Her hand lifted to Ian’s fiery locks, running her slim fingers through them. Ian didn’t know how long they sat there in silence, before his stomach churned, the feeling of nausea crawling its way up to Ian’s throat. Ian gagged, and both best friends rushed over to the bathroom for Ian to throw up into the toilet.

“Fuck,” Ian panted, flushing the toilet and shakily getting up to wash his face. “Never getting drunk again.”

“Good,” Mandy giggled.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror; his face was paler than usual, which made him look sick and accentuated the purple bags under his eyes. Both best friends walked out of the bathroom. Ian’s legs felt like rubber underneath him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“How’s it going with you and Casey?” Ian asked.

“It’s going well,” Mandy answered with a suppressed smile. “He’s good to me. It’s like a breath of fresh air, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ian nodded. “I’m glad he’s treating you well, Mands.” He was well aware of Mandy’s low self esteem. She never deemed herself worthy enough to be in a healthy relationship; Ian disagreed, obviously. Mandy was beautiful—with her ocean blue eyes and dyed blonde hair falling onto pasty skin. She had a personality that shined in the dark to go with her good looks; she was kind, selfless, loving. She had an edge, which was a vital thing to have growing up the way she did.

“How’s Lip?” Mandy asked out of the blue, taking Ian by surprise.

“He’s.. he’s alright,” Ian answered, “he’s still drinking. Probably skipping his AA meetings.”

“That’s not good,” Mandy frowned. Ian shrugged in response. If Lip didn’t want to get help, there wasn’t anything anyone can do except yell at him. “That’s it? You’re just gonna shrug your shoulders?”

“Not much else I can do,” Ian replied. “I have my own shit to take care of. So do you. We can’t force him to go.” He lightly drummed his fingers on the wooden kitchen table, filling the silence with soft taps.

“Guess so," she sighed, "get some rest, honey. Hate to break it to you, but you look like fucking shit.” Ian laughed a bit.

“You’re just tryin’ to get rid of me, aren’t you?” Ian joked but slowly got up, trudging to his room. The room looked like a tornado flew around it, clothes strewn everywhere. Ian made a mental note to clean the cluttered room as he lowered himself onto the bed.

He was out like a light the minute his head hit his pillow.

 

***************

Ian was never drinking again.

His head pounded inside him, every tiny sound amplifying and bouncing around in his head, increasing the agonizing pain in his head. The brightness of the sun had increased his headache as well. He wished the sun would go away.

When Ian saw Blue sitting at the kitchen table having an animated conversation with Mandy, he made a beeline to the raven-haired man, straddling Blue’s lap and letting his legs drape on either side of Blue. “I feel like crap,” Ian groaned, nuzzling his face in Blue’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his boyfriend.

“Serves you right for drinking,” Blue chided without much scorn, kissing the spread of skin between the base of his neck and shoulder. Ian could hear the smile in Blue’s voice, however, as Blue circled his arms around Ian’s slender waist.

“I can’t even drink fucking coffee,” Ian complained his voice muffled slightly.

“Drink a lot of water,” Mandy suggested, “take a couple naps, you’ll feel better.” Even though taking a nap sounded tempting, he wanted to be cocooned in Blue’s arms, inhaling his scent, listening to his voice. He wanted to be right where he was. Despite his headache, he was in bliss.

“I’m good here,” Ian replied.

“You gotta drink water at least, man,” Blue urged, “it’ll help.” Ian turned so he was sitting on one of Blue’s thighs while his legs are draped over Blue’s other thigh. He grabbed the glass of water that was offered to him and chugged it down, the liquid substance coating his gullet.

“Happy now?” Ian asked.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Blue grinned. "How about we go to the cafe after you feel better? Sound good?"

"Yeah," Ian answered with a small grin, "sounds good."

 

***************

The sun beat down on the streets of Chicago, warming up the concrete under their feet. Ian felt better, his headache diminishing bit by bit. It was there, a slight pounding, but it wasn’t intolerable. Coupled with the fact that Ian was running to the cafe, determined to get there before Blue, the sun felt like its rays were melting Ian's skin off.

“I got here first, bitch!” Blue panted, grinning from ear to ear when they made it to the cafe.

“The fuck you did!”

“I did!” Blue argued. Ian bent over, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Blue’s grin widened as he grabbed the back of Ian’s neck, and bucked his hips upwards as he tried to push Ian’s face onto his crotch.

Ian stopped him, however, laughing. “You’re fucking nasty.” He draped his arm over Blue’s shoulders.

“You fucking love my nasty self,” Blue said as they walked inside their beloved cafe. As they entered, they were hit with cool air that washed over them like a cold shower. The smell of freshly ground coffee hit their noses and Ian felt at home. He didn’t realize how much he missed the place until he set foot in it.

The place was buzzing with people, chattering over their food. Ian scanned the place with his emerald eyes, as they stood in line. “Been a while since we came here,” Ian said, and planted a kiss on Blue’s sweaty temple. "I missed this place."

“I’m sweating, nasty bitch,” Blue said, failing to suppress his wide smile. “I did, too. The place is packed with people. Was it always this busy?” Sapphire eyes looked up at Ian, and Ian’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Don’t think so,” Ian frowned.

“Why is the line taking so fucking long?” Blue groaned, gnawing on his lip.

“Be patient,” Ian reminded.

“Suck my dick, Ginger.”

“Is that an invitation?” Ian flirted, and Blue smiled despite himself. Ian moved so he was behind Blue, wrapping his lanky arms around Blue’s waist. “Cause I’d be more than happy to be deepthroating your cock,” he whispered hotly in Blue’s ear.

“You’re gonna give me a fucking boner, man,” Blue informed him.

“I can’t be sucking a limp dick,” Ian said matter-of-factly and kissed the spread of skin between his jaw and his neck. Blue instinctively tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Give me a boner later,” Blue said, but that didn’t stop Ian from planting kisses on his neck.

“Will do,” Ian replied against the skin, and stopped kissing Blue’s damp skin when they got to the front of the line. “I’ll have the Cold Cocoa Latte,” Ian said to the cashier.

“Just coffee,” Blue said after Ian, and both men stepped out of the line after Blue paid. “How’s your hangover?” Blue asked Ian.

“Better,” Ian replied. “I’m not drinking ever again.”

“Better fuckin’ not,” Blue said, as he grabbed their drinks, making their way to their snug leather seats, sitting down on them.

“Don’t understand how you can drink a hot beverage on one of the hottest days,” Ian said, shaking his head.

“Like this.” Blue lifted the mug to his full lips, blew on the drink and took a sip. Ian rolled his emerald eyes, suppressing his smile and took a sip of his own drink, the thick liquid slowly making its way down Ian’s throat. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Ian lowered his extremely sweet drink to roll his eyes again. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Blue reached over and wiped off the whipped cream on Ian’s Cupid’s bow. “Thanks, babe.” Blue’s ears tinged with pink at the term of endearment, which made Ian grin, and his heart swelled in his chest.

“No problem,” Blue smiled coyly and licked the whipped cream off of his fingers, sapphire eyes not looking at Ian.

“We should get whipped cream,” Ian said suddenly.

“Why?”

“So you could lick it off of me,” Ian responded nonchalantly, and sapphire eyes landed on Ian’s emerald ones. “Spice things up in the bedroom.” He shrugged and took a sip of his thick drink, as he raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at Blue mischievously.

“Things are pretty spiced up already,” Blue informed Ian, “what with my toys.”

“With your _beads_ ,” Ian corrected, “you have an irrational fear of dildos. And strap-ons.”

“I do not,” Blue denied. “Are you always this horny after you recover from hangovers?”

Ian shook his head. “You do have a fear of fake dicks. Never really told me why.”

“Cause they're fucking weird,” Blue reasoned.

“How are they weird?”

“Are we seriously going to talk about this?” Blue inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Guess so,” Ian smirked after gulping his mouth full of his drink. “Wanna get to the bottom of why you’re so scared of ‘em. Maybe try to help you overcome your fear.” Blue flipped him off, and Ian laughed. He didn’t know how much he ached for them to kick back and have borderline outrageous conversations in the cafe.

Blue was his best friend and boyfriend mixed into one. Ian was completely himself around Blue, comfortable in his skin for once; because not only did Blue avoid judging him, but also because Blue didn’t make him feel like he was the background noise of a busy environment.

Blue hung onto every word that clumsily poured out of Ian’s mouth, and Ian didn’t know that he needed this so bad, needed Blue so bad.

Ian was in deep, and for once he wasn’t scared of the realization.


	10. Chapter 10

The weather slowly transitioned, getting colder as the days went by, and soon enough, it was autumn. The bright green leaves had transformed into various shades of orange, yellow and red. They littered the ground, leaving the branches they were hanging from exposed, the crooked branches reaching for the light blue sky.

“I’m thinking of applying for a City College or some shit,” Ian announced while sipping on his hot chocolate. “Malcolm X probably. Just don’t know what to take.” Ian currently worked at a snazzy diner two blocks from their beloved cafe. He got paid next to nothing, but it was something, at least.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Blue replied.

“I guess,” Ian shrugged, “really wish I graduated high school, and actually worked hard to get into West Point, and then enlisted, y’know? My illness fucked it up for me.”

“Hey, maybe if you showed them your tattoo, they’d consider letting you re-enlist,” Blue joked, which earned him the middle finger from the redhead.

“You love giving me shit about my tattoo, don’t you?” Ian grinned.

“I do.” Their conversation was interrupted by a buzzing from Ian’s phone, and Ian got his phone out, his grin fading. The caller ID had read “answer at your own risk” in all caps. _Monica._ Ian let it go to voicemail, not having the energy to deal with his deadbeat mother who appears in his life spontaneously, then leaves.

“It was Monica,” Ian explained to Blue.

“She’s back?”

“Probably,” Ian sighed, “this is what she does. She randomly comes back into our lives, stays for a couple weeks while promising that she’ll be a good mom this time, then pulls a fucking Houdini on us.”

“That’s fucking bullshit, man,” Blue commented.

“Tell me about it.” Ian sighed again, his good mood diminishing bit by bit. He looked at Blue, and it dawned on him that Blue’s never mentioned his mom. Now that he thought of it, neither did Mandy. They were mum about her. “You’ve never talked about your mom.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Blue replied after swallowing a mouthful of coffee, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. “She’s dead. She was a strapped junkie that had five kids and then overdosed on drugs.” His sapphire eyes weren’t on Ian’s; they were trained on the wooden, merlot coffee table in front of them.

Ian wanted nothing more than to pull Blue into his arms, kiss him, and give him the love he was robbed of ever since he was a kid. The image of his love as a kid, bloodied and bruised, cowering in fear of his father replayed in Ian’s head and Ian’s stomach churned.

“You gonna see her?” Blue inquired, snapping Ian out of his thoughts.

“What? Oh, um.. don’t know,” Ian replied, “probably not.”

Blue nodded. “Monica’s still not medicated.” The pitch of his voice rose at the end, sounding more like a question than a statement.

“I think?” Ian replied irresolutely. “I’m not sure. I lied, I have no idea.”

“Figured,” Blue said with a shrug. His phone buzzed and he sighed at the text. “Gotta go. Lana wants me to help pay for Yevgeny’s necessities.” He got up and put his sweater on over his thin shirt. “Fucking hate this bullshit. Never wanted to get hitched anyway.”

Ian knew this fact; however it still hurt. “Never even considered marrying someone?”

“Nope,” Blue replied, grabbing his coffee, “just a waste of fuckin’ time and effort. I’ll see you later, man.” Ian could feel his heart stutter in his chest and swallowed hard, plastering on a small smile and nodding. He pretended that those words didn’t feel like knives stabbing his heart.

“Yeah,” Ian nodded, “bye.” He watched Blue leave, his heart heavy inside him.

 

***************

The darkness hung heavy over Ian as he trudged back home. The wind nipped uncomfortably at Ian’s face, and tousled Ian’s fiery hair. Ian’s emerald eyes were trained on his feet, and he knocked into a burly man.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” the man yelled at Ian. Ian’s despair morphed into anger as he looked up at the man.

“Fuck off, bitch,” Ian spat at the man and kept walking. His feet had made its way to the Alibi, the dreary red door taking him by surprise momentarily. However, he walked in, to the sound of his older brother yelling.

The bar was silenced due to Lip yelling, and Ian exhaled deeply, breaking the short-lived silence. His eyes landed on familiar blonde hair that cascaded in loose waves down her waist, milky skin and green eyes that brightened when she saw Ian. The bar had gone back to what they were doing before when Monica rushed to Ian, embracing him tightly.

“I made a gorgeous man,” she complimented, pulling away from the hug and admiring her son. “How are you? Sit!” She waved Ian down onto a stool and Ian reluctantly sat down.

“Coke,” Ian said to V, “where’s Svetlana?”

“At home,” V said as she poured Ian Coke.

“Coke? Really? Come on, have a beer,” Monica urged before noticing Ian’s borderline angry demeanor. “You alright? You don’t look happy.” Monica added, running her hand through Ian’s red locks. Ian glanced at Lip, who seemed determined not to look in Monica’s direction.

“I’m alright,” Ian assured her. “Can’t drink on meds.” He craved a beer, but shoved the craving aside.

“One drink isn’t gonna kill you,” Monica smiled.

“No, but it’s gonna make my blood toxic,” Ian retorted, sipping his coke.

“Fair enough.” Monica tapped her fingernails on the sticky counter, before striking up another conversation. “Heard you got a boyfriend.”

“Yup,” Ian confirmed. The conversation in the cafe resurfaced in Ian’s mind, ruining his mood even more.

“I’d like to know more about him,” she put a hand on Ian’s, and Ian looked at their hands disapprovingly. He just wanted to be left alone. He considered leaving, but decided against it. “What’s his name?” She removed her hand from Ian’s, much to Ian’s pleasure.

“Mickey.”

“Terry Milkovich’ s son?”

“That’s the one.”

“Shit,” Monica said. “Didn’t know he swung that way. He doesn’t seem gay.”

“How the fuck does one ‘seem gay’?” Ian asked, a bit more harshly than he intended it to be. He was channelling all his anger onto Monica.

“I-I didn’t mean it that way,” she stammered, green eyes widening slightly. “I just—”

“Why are you even here?” Ian inquired out of the blue. The question was on the tip of his tongue, waiting to flow out of his mouth.

“What?”

“Why are you here, in this bar? You thought it’d be nice to drop by and say hello to your kids that you ditched, huh?” Anger was coursing through his veins. He didn’t know how mad he was at Monica specifically, and he didn’t care at the moment.

“Ian, I-I’m sorry,” she apologized and Ian scoffed. He got out a couple bills, laying them on the sticky counter and stormed to the door, ignoring the multiple apologies flowing out of Monica’s mouth. He walked out, the wind biting at his skin harshly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged back to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was toying with monica coming back for a while. i hated trevor being in season 7 so there's no trevor in this one.
> 
> the next chapter will be up in an hour minimum so keep an eye out for that.
> 
> until next time,
> 
> \- Gaylagher


	11. Chapter 11

There was underlying tension between Ian and Blue. Ian tried to keep it cool, try not to let on that he was bothered by their conversation in the cafe prior to Ian meeting Monica. However, that was a difficult task to accomplish and the tension was so thick it was almost tangible.

Which is why Ian spent a lot of time with his siblings.

“If Monica tries to talk to me, I’m gonna pretend she doesn’t exist,” Fiona stated, tapping off the excess of her cigarette onto the ashtray. “Like she’s done with me my whole life.”

“Not gonna happen,” Lip said, “she’s gonna find a crack, and she’s gonna slither in and start plucking at the nerve no one else in the planet can.”

“Wanna bet?” Fiona grinned.

“Twenty bucks says you’ll crack,” Lip replied, easily returning the grin.

“Deal,” Fiona shook Lip’s hand, and Ian scoffed. “What?”

“Nothin’,” Ian replied, running his long fingers through his hair. “How’s the Tinder thing going?” He was desperate to get the subject off of him.

“It’s going alright.” Her grin widened. “Wish someone introduced it to me before.” Ian plastered on a smile and involuntarily toying with his silver ring. “How are you.. with everything?”

 _There it is._ Whenever Ian got too quiet, or too energetic, people would wring their hands with worry, casting apprehensive looks over him. They would ask him the same question, as if they were a broken vinyl record, repeating the same thing over and over again.

“I’m alright,” Ian lied, “kinda bummed out that Monica’s back.” He gave her a half smile, and Fiona nodded even though she still looked vexed. He put a hand on hers. “I’m okay. Really.”

Fiona smiled and squeezed his hand. “Okay, kiddo. I just get worried that—”

“That I’ll pull a Monica?” Ian interrupted, raising his eyebrows. He pulled his hand away from his sister’s, irritation coursing through his veins. He was so tired of people watching, waiting with bated breaths as to when Ian does the next crazy thing.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Fiona denied, shaking her head vehemently. Ian scoffed and stood up. He wasn’t going to deal with this fucking crap. “Ian..”

“Call me when you’re done treating me like I’m Monica.” And with that, Ian walked out, disregarding his siblings calling his name. He’s had a shitty couple of hours, and he needed to unwind. He immediately considered going back to his apartment and staying in bed with Blue, kissing his soft lips and skin, touching him. His heart ached at the lack of Blue.

He walked over to the L, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the toxic smoke before exhaling it. He watched the smoke fade away, dissipating into the light blue sky. The smoke made his shoulders slightly sagging and he finished the cigarette in no time.

He threw the butt onto the ground, and stomped on it, before getting in the L and taking a seat, looking at the lights blur as the L moved. He felt a wave of emotions, and all of them condensed into salty tears, which blurred his vision of the city lights even more.

He was _not_ Monica. He would never leave his children—if he had any—to fend for themselves. He’s come a long fucking way ever since he ran away to join the Army. His family saw Monica when they looked into Ian’s emerald eyes; not Ian. And they only paid attention when Ian did something out of the ordinary. There was only one person who saw past Ian’s disorder, one person who truly saw Ian behind the mask that Ian wore on the daily.

“Fuck,” Ian said almost inaudibly, hastily wiping the stray tear away with the back of his hand. He got off at his stop, struggling to pull himself together. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see who texted him. His heart beat erratically when he noticed it was Blue.

_We gotta talk when you get home._

_About..?_ Ian texted back. His eyes were on the screen as his feet took him to the cafe.

 _Don’t play dumb with me, Ginger,_ Blue texted back.

 _I don’t wanna talk about it,_ Ian texted back, knowing he was being difficult. But he knew how the conversation would go; Ian would address why he’s been acting the way he’s been acting, and Blue would tell him why he doesn’t want to get hitched again, while bringing up that he’s already married to Svetlana. It wasn’t a conversation he was exactly looking forward to.

 _Don’t give a shit,_ Blue texted back, and Ian gnawed on his lip, his stomach tying itself in knots as he walked into the cafe. Music spilled over the speakers as Ian stood in line, feeling lonely. He’s never walked in alone, and for some reason, the bright cafe seemed bigger than it usually did.

“Hey,” Ian greeted, recognizing the cashier. He was friendly with the employees, got used to their friendly faces, as they got familiar to his. The cashier had dyed mauve hair, falling onto a heart-shaped head with skin the colour of caramel, and amber eyes.

“Hi,” Dani greeted, her rosy lips spreading into a warm smile, “no boyfriend today?”

“No, busy,” Ian replied, keeping his tone as light as possible. “I’ll have the usual. Mickey’s usual order as well.”

“Of course,” Dani smirked, “not the experimental type, huh?”

“Guess not,” Ian smiled as Dani punched in the order.

“You gonna eat here or..?” Dani asked.

“Not today,” Ian said, realizing if he faced the inevitable conversation sooner, it’d end faster. “Got somethin’ to do.” He handed Dani the money before stepping to the side, wringing his hands impatiently. He was a bundle of nerves, eyes flitting all over the place as he tapped his foot. His heart beat erratically in fear, thumping against his chest as his head was filled with scenarios of how the conversation may turn out to be, all of them ending negatively.

 

***************

His hands were shaking as he turned the doorknob, swallowing hard. As soon as he stepped inside sapphire eyes landed on him, and his heart beat erratically at the sight of his boyfriend. The tension between them was so thick, he could almost taste it.

“Where were you?” Blue inquired, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“Cafe,” Ian replied, holding up his drink and the bag of food before setting it on the counter. “The line was super long and—”

“Ian,” Blue interrupted, “stop. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Cutting right to the chase, huh?” Ian smirked slightly.

“I wanna know,” Blue stated, “and this-this insistent passive aggressive shit you’re doing? I hate it. I hate us like this. I want us to go back to the way we were, not have you avoid me and—”

“I wanna marry you,” Ian blurted out, and swallowed hard, watching Blue’s sapphire eyes widen slightly. “I have been for a while. And you won’t and it kills me. I know we’re fucking young but Christ.. I’ve never wanted something this bad. Ever.”

“I’m already married,” Blue clarified.

“I know,” Ian sighed. “Lip was talking about how V and Kev got married, even though Kev was still married to this crazy bitch, and I wanted to do that but you don’t. And this—” he gestured to both of them “—felt like.. like it was goin’ nowhere. What’s the point of being together if this is going nowhere?”

“Are.. are you giving me an ultimatum?” Blue asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows the way Ian loved, eyes glossed over as he bit his quivering lower lip.

“No, I..” Ian sighed. Was he giving Blue an ultimatum? He looked at Blue, on the verge of tears. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Tears pricked at his eyes and he turned away. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He trudged towards the bathroom, peeling his clothes off. The feeling of numbness hugged him too tightly. He stepped into the bathroom, slumping against the wall momentarily before cleaning himself.

As he got out of the shower with a new change of clothes, he made a beeline to the fridge, hunger biting at his insides. However, Blue was there, pulling a beer out. “How’d Kev and V get married when Kev was already hitched?” Blue inquired, opening the can of beer.

“I believe they got their marriage notarized with a different date but they never filed it with the state,” Ian replied, watching Blue chug down the bitter liquid. “We also helped them get a priest that faked the wedding.” Blue gnawed on his lip and nodded.

“Know anyone who can marry people?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” Blue sighed, and gnawed on his lip. “Didn’t Casey marry his mom and step-dad?”

“Think so.” Ian grabbed a carton of orange juice and screwed the cap open before chugging the orange liquid down.

“Maybe we can get him to marry us.” Ian nearly spit out the drink, and forced himself to swallow it before lowering the carton.

“What?”

“You deaf, Gallagher?” Blue replied, no malice in his tone whatsoever.

“You wanna marry me?” Ian asked in disbelief. Tears welled up in his eyes, his heart rapidly beating.

“Don’t know,” Blue joked with a smile. “You haven’t proposed to me yet.”

Ian lowered the carton onto the counter. “Marry me?” His voice was wavering and he sniffed wetly, holding his tears back.

 “Yeah,” Blue nodded vehemently. And with that, Ian kissed Blue fervently, tears flowing freely as the shorter man eagerly reciprocated. Beer cans and cartons of orange juice were disregarded as both men clumsily walked over to their bedroom, lips still attached to each other while Ian kicked the door closed.


	12. Chapter 12

“Which one sounds better?” Ian inquired, turning to his side to face his fiancé, lightly resting his palm on Blue’s bare stomach. “Ian Milkovich or Mickey Gallagher?”

Both men were in bed, not getting a wink of sleep. They were either talking, fucking, kissing, eating, or roughhousing. Ian knew he should get some rest because he worked a double the next day, but ecstasy forced him to stay awake, enjoy the company of Blue.

“We could hyphenate them,” Blue suggested, “like.. Gallagher-Milkovich. Or Milkovich-Gallagher.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“My cock’s a mouthful,” Blue flirted and moved so he was on top of the redhead, straddling Ian’s lap. Blue slotted their mouths together and Ian happily reciprocated, sliding his hands down to Blue’s clothed ass, nipping at his lower lip. The room filled with the sloppy sound of lips pressed together, mixing with the soft moans that escaped their mouths. Ian felt like he was on cloud 9 with Blue.

“You ever gonna get tired of this?” Ian asked against their lips, “tired of me?” Blue pulled back to look into Ian’s emerald ones.

“Not a chance,” Blue replied earnestly, lifting his hand to pet Ian’s wild hair. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You and me.. we’re endgame.” Ian was floored by the weight of the words, and his heart beat rapidly against his chest. He touched Blue’s pallid cheek.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Ian admitted truthfully.

“Who said you deserved me?” Blue joked, giving Ian a smile.

“C’mere, asshole,” Ian laughed and commenced roughhousing with his fiancé. Blue laughed and struggled to stay on top while repeatedly saying “you are going down, Army.”

Both men stopped when they were tired, panting from the exertion. Ian turned his head to look at his fiancé in the darkness, laying beside Ian. “When will we tell them?”

“Doesn’t really matter when,” Blue replied, catching his breath. “We just gotta tell ‘em.” Blue sniffed slightly, their ecstasy waning and sleep taking over them. “We also gotta sleep. Have to refill your meds tomorrow after you’re done with work.”

“You sure you wanna go with me?” Ian inquired.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Blue replied, brushing the pad of his thumb against the side of his nose.

“Cause it’s too much of a hassle,” Ian stated.

“Not to me,” Blue sniffed again. “I wanna be there.”

“Okay,” Ian nodded, caving in. The darkness of the room hung over them, as thick as the comfortable silence between the two men. Blue turned to the side, his back facing Ian. Ian’s eyes felt heavy as he closed them, slowly drifting off when he felt Blue kick his leg. “Ow! The fuck was that for?”

“Fucking hold me, dipshit,” Blue replied and Ian’s irritation waned, as a smile appeared on his face. Ian turned to his side, facing Blue and draped an arm over his waist.

“Happy?” Ian asked, earning him a sleepy “mhm” from Blue. Ian planted a kiss on Blue’s shoulder blade before slightly tightening his hold on the latter.

The tiny world that the two men constructed in this bedroom slowly disappeared as Ian slipped into unconsciousness.

 

***************

“We’ll continue with Lithium since it is working well for you,” the doctor announced and Ian nodded. In his peripheral vision he could see his fiancé squirming in his seat. This was a foreign concept to Blue; going to the clinic, getting more medication, and Ian knew how fretful Blue was. Blue repeatedly brushed the pad of his thumb against the side of his nose, or scratched his eyebrow, or gnawed on his lower lip. All of his ticks came out to play. She handed Ian the box and Ian lightly drummed his fingers on the cardboard box, wanting to run out the door. “Olanzapine for the paranoia.” She handed Ian the box.

“Okay,” Ian replied, inspecting the box. Blue gestured for Ian to give him the boxes and Ian handed it over.

“Have you made a list of people to call in case you get the urge to self harm or if you feel suicidal?”

“I have.” Ian wet his lips involuntarily. Blue’s sapphire eyes widened slightly.

“Thought the anti-depressants helped with that,” Blue said, “why would he still have suicidal thoughts if he was taking anti-depressants?” His voice slightly rose, confusion and panic etched onto his perfect features.

“One of the side effects of anti-depressants is suicidal thoughts,” the doctor answered Blue calmly.

“Then what’s the fucking point of taking them?” Blue asked incredulously. Ian put a hand on Blue’s knee in an effort to calm his fiancé down, which made frantic cerulean eyes lock into Ian’s emerald ones for a couple beats before Blue calmed down.

The walk back to the L was uncomfortable. Blue had his hands in his pockets, clearly mulling things over in his head, eyes trained to the ground. “How long do you have to take ‘em?” Blue asked, breaking the silence between them. “Until the symptoms.. decrease, I guess?”

“Hard to say,” Ian answered.

“Ballpark.”

“Three to four decades,” Ian said reluctantly, and Blue nodded, his face not giving away to the storm of emotions he felt inside. Ian’s stomach churned and he glanced at Blue apprehensively. “You gonna stay with me until then?”

“Of course I am,” Blue replied confidently. “I told you, I ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re fucking doing this together; you, me, us.”

Ian’s heart slightly swelled at Blue’s choice of words. Blue isn’t going anywhere, that was certain. However, his insecurities convinced Ian otherwise. No one wanted to deal with Ian’s perpetual illness; hell, he didn’t want to deal with it himself. He was stable now, but what if he wasn’t in the future? What then?

Blue’s only seen Ian when he was depressed; his body stuck to the bed, a heavy cloud over him, praying for the world to go away. It was different when Ian was manic. Ian felt indestructible; like he was on top of the world. He was impulsive, did things that were reckless and extremely dangerous. What if Blue didn’t want to stay with Ian when he’d do something impulsive?

Ian and Blue decided to head to the bleachers, neither of them wanting to put their time together to an end. “Haven’t been here since that time we banged,” Blue grinned at Ian. “I’ve always wanted to get railed here.”

“Glad I could help with your borderline weird sexual fantasy,” Ian grinned back.

“Fuck off, it’s not weird,” Blue scoffed, leaning his back against the metal fence. The moon dimly bounced off of Blue’s face, painting part of his face beautifully. His sapphire eyes were bright in contrast to the darkness surrounding them. Blue was the epitome of perfection to Ian.

Ian couldn’t believe that Blue was going to be his forever. Doubt resurfaced, pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he tried to ignore it. “Wonder where we’re gonna be ten years down the line.”

“We’re still gonna be as dick-whipped for each other ten years later as we are now,” Blue promised.

“Yeah?” Ian bit his lip. Blue pushed himself up and pressed his lips against Ian’s. It was sweet and short-lived, but it still sent chills down Ian’s spine.

“Yeah,” Blue said against his lips before kissing Ian vehemently. Ian looped an arm around Blue’s waist, pulling him closer as tattooed fingers tangled in Ian’s red hair. Their tongues danced, and they kissed until their lungs screamed for oxygen. Ian placed open mouth kisses on Blue’s neck, the latter tilting his head and closing his eyes.

Ian breathed in the addicting scent of his fiancé as Blue’s fingers clumsily unbuckled Ian’s belt and unzipped his jeans. “Lube?” Ian asked, still sucking at the soft skin. Blue got the lube packet out hastily and handed it to Ian when Ian pulled back. “I see you’ve come prepared.”

“Shut up,” Blue laughed and turned around and stuck his ass out a bit. Ian grabbed one of the cheeks before pushing a lube-coated digit in Blue, rubbing his prostate. “Fuck.” He turned his head so he can kiss the redhead.

Ian made quick work of opening his fiancé up, while making out with Blue. He slipped his fingers out and coated his cock with lube before thrusting inside Blue, both men moaning softly at the action. Ian’s lips were latched onto Blue’s neck as he relentlessly pounded into Blue.

“Harder,” Blue practically whined, and Ian sped up the pace. “Holy _fuck._ ” Ian angled his hips to hit Blue’s prostate, earning him a guttural groan from Blue. Ian knew he was close, and increased the pace even more, shooting his load before Blue came all over the grass. Ian pulled out of Blue, eliciting a small sigh from the latter.

Blue turned his head so Ian could slot their lips together. Their kiss was sloppy and all tongue, while Blue’s hands roamed all over Ian’s body. Ian reluctantly pulled back, and leaned his forehead against Blue’s, catching his breath. “We should probably stop standing here with our dicks out.”

“Right,” Blue chuckled and Ian took a step back before pulling his pants up, Blue doing the same. 

Ian was coming down from the post-sex high, adrenaline still running through his veins, his heart beating erratically. “That was fucking good.” Both men walked towards their apartment.

“I know,” Ian grinned. “Worked up an appetite.”

“You’re always fucking hungry,” Blue replied, “don’t know how you still stay in good shape.”

“It’s all the fucking,” Ian said with a shrug, “my fiancé has a really big sexual appetite.”

“Oh yeah?” Blue grinned. “Sounds fun.”

“It is,” Ian nodded, draping an arm around Blue’s shoulders, “he’s really sexy and loves getting his ass railed. Breath of fresh air, really. Don’t have to go easy on him.”

They spent the rest of the evening laughing, talking, kissing and stuffing their mouths with food that was stored in the tiny fridge. Ian was in bliss, but it was cut short the next morning when he woke up to missed calls and a text from Lip, which knocked the air out of his lungs.

_Monica’s in the hospital. Come quick._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i loosely recreated the scene in season 5 episode 9 where ian and mickey get the meds and shit. also, heads up: i will finish BITWC today and i probably won't start with the third story until after i'm done with my pending one shots.
> 
> \- Gaylagher


	13. Chapter 13

He scrambled to get up, brushing his teeth and throwing on whatever he could find. His heart was pounding against his chest, the sound filling his ears. He rushed out the door of their bedroom, being greeted by Mandy. “Hey.”

“Can’t talk,” Ian replied. “My mom’s in the hospital.”

“Shit,” Mandy breathed, “you know why?”

“Have no idea,” Ian shrugged, putting his coat and shoes on before grabbing a piece of toast and sticking it between his teeth.

“Meds?” Mandy called to Ian when he walked to the door, and Ian took the toast out of his mouth to answer.

“Already took ‘em!” He headed out of the door and chewed on his toast, the food tasting rough and dry without having anything to wash it down with. He glanced at his phone to see that Lip texted him the hospital they were currently at, walking onto the L. He decided to shoot Blue a text:

_Monica’s at the hospital. I probably will be with the others today._

People on the L cast judgmental looks at Ian, trying to be discreet as possible. He knew he looked like a mess—his hair was unkempt, sticking out in all directions. He ran his hand through his wild hair to tame it, but probably failed to do so. His phone notified him that Blue texted back and he opened the message with fumbling fingers.

 _I’ll be at the hospital ASAP. Where are they at the moment?_ Ian’s leg bounced impatiently as he sent the address to Blue. He wanted to tell Blue that he’ll be fine, that Blue didn’t need to go there to provide emotional support, but he knew his fiancé was as pig-headed as he was—if not, more—and will show up.

Ian just about pushed people away out of the way as he got off the L, his legs thumping softly against the ground as he sprinted to the hospital. He was out of breath when he got to the waiting zone, face flushed and emerald eyes frantic.

“They say anything?”

“No,” Debbie sighed and Ian slumped onto a chair. Silence filled the room as Ian nervously toyed with his ring. He only noticed Kev and V sitting next to Fiona. His siblings conversed with Kev and V, while Ian stayed mute, his emerald eyes trained on the hoary object. “Carl not here yet?” Ian asked out of the blue, not lifting his eyes.

“He’s at school,” Fiona answered, “they said they’re trying to get him on the train tonight.” Ian nodded and leaned back in his seat, exhaling through his mouth slowly. He tried to ignore the hunger biting at his stomach as they all sat in silence, patiently waiting for the doctors to update them on their mother.

Ian couldn’t handle waiting any longer; his patience getting thinner as the time slowly went by. His stomach was churning uncomfortably, and only ceased to churn when Blue entered the waiting zone. Butterflies fluttered irately and his heart thumped against his chest as his eyes locked into bright, sapphire ones. “Hey,” Blue greeted and sat in the chair next to Ian. “The doctor say anything?”

“No,” Ian answered, focusing on how his knee pressed against Blue’s instead of getting irritated at how long they were taking.

“Gallagher?” a voice called and Ian immediately got up with their siblings at the sound of their last name being called, walking over to the female in the white coat. “Dr. Kahian. Monica your mother?” She asked, raising her eyebrows inquisitively.

“Yeah,” Fiona confirmed, “I’m Fiona, Phillip, Debbie and Ian.” She gestured to the others as she introduced them to Dr. Kahian. Ian waved half-heartedly at the doctor, while Debbie gave her a small smile and Lip let out an almost inaudible “hi.”

“Your mother came in unresponsive,” Dr. Kahian started, “we made every attempt to revive her, but.. we were unsuccessful.” The four siblings stood in silence, uncertain of what to say.

“So.. she’s dead.” It was Fiona who spoke.

“Yes.”

“Drug overdose?” Lip inquired.

“No,” Dr. Kahian responded, perplexed. “She died of a massive cerebral haemorrhage.” The four of them exchanged equally baffled looks. “A blood vessel in her brain burst. Would you like to see her?”

“I would,” Debbie answered. Ian stayed silent, crossing his arms. He was too stunned to give a shit about Debbie wanting to see Monica. He was definite that Monica overdosed.

“Uh, okay. Sure,” Fiona answered uncertainly.

“Give us a few minutes and we’ll bring you back,” the doctor said before walking off. Ian ran his hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Fuck,” Ian sighed.

“Yeah,” Fiona agreed. “I’m gonna go talk to Frank. Give him the news.” Ian nodded and felt the familiar feeling of numbness inside him as he watched Fiona walk away. He was slowly shutting down and retreating back to his cave, trudging back to Blue, who stood up at the sight of the redhead.

“What happened?” Blue inquired.

“Dead,” Ian answered vaguely. “Blood vessel in her brain burst.”

“Shit,” Blue breathed and rubbed his hands on Ian’s arms. “C’mere.” He wrapped his burly arms around Ian, lightly pushing Ian’s head into the dip of his neck; because Ian was too stunned to. The smell of Blue comforted Ian and Ian hugged him back, inhaling the scent, letting it consume him. He reluctantly pulled away and sat down on a chair, Blue sitting down next to him.

The guilt nipped away at Ian’s insides as he remembered his last encounter with Monica. As horrible of a mother as she was, she didn’t deserve to go out like that; no one did.

“I’m probably gonna spend the night with my siblings,” Ian informed Blue, resting his head on the latter’s shoulder. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Blue inquired, kissing the top of Ian’s head.

“I.. I don’t know,” Ian answered truthfully. Part of him didn’t want to leave Blue—not when Ian felt this surprised and guilty. He wanted to latch onto his fiancé, have the man in his arms, be around him. The rational side of him knew that his siblings needed him more than he needed Blue.

His siblings were one small step from having a breakdown, and Ian pushed his wants aside to be the rock that they needed to stay sane. Ian felt his head pounding slightly and sighed. All this stress was going to take a toll on him, he knew it.

“I’ll see you back at the house?” Lip inquired after Debbie came back from visiting Monica’s body, an unreadable expression on her features.

“Yeah,” Ian replied, lifting his head. “See ya.”

Lip nodded and waved at Blue before walking away.

 

***************

“So much for wanting to tell them soon,” Ian sighed, messily shoving clothes in a small Duffel bag.

“Hey, we can tell them later,” Blue replied, “I don’t care when we tie the knot. Neither do I care when we tell ‘em. I just wanna get married to you.” Ian’s heart swelled up at the words. Blue’s random confessions of love always perked Ian up, no matter what happened.

“I’m sorry,” Ian apologized. “Nothing was.. planned out. I proposed to you without planning for it, Monica died suddenly, everything happened.. unexpectedly. I feel like I’m going through an emotional roller coaster.”

“I know,” Blue looked at him knowingly. “You told your boss about not going to work tomorrow?”

“Yup,” Ian sighed, “said that going to work tomorrow was ‘non-negotiable’. I even told him that my mom died and he still wouldn’t let me.”

“Asshole,” Blue scoffed, and took long strides towards his fiancé. “Tell you what; I’ll give Mandy, Brielle and Casey about our engagement. And then you guys could talk about wedding shit tomorrow at your workplace. You don’t need to tell your family now, with what fucking happened today. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Ian nodded, “I’m gonna miss you tonight.”

“Miss me with that gay shit, Ginger,” Blue smiled, which made Ian roll his eyes. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I won’t miss your 7 foot ass tonight.”

“Did you just admit that you’ll miss me?” Ian gasped in mock astonishment. “I’m touched.”

“Shut up,” Blue laughed and gave Ian a brisk kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will,” Ian nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you, dipshit,” Blue replied and Ian gave him a chaste kiss. “Get outta here before I change my mind and tell you to fucking stay.” Ian gave him a small smile, detecting the hint of a joke in the sentence before walking out of the apartment, slinging his Duffel bag over his shoulder.

He wasn’t even out of the building and he already ached for the presence of Blue. _Tonight was going to be a long night._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is heavily based on 7x12 cause i've been wanting to add mickey into the loss of monica. also the third installment of this series will go up today.

Ian didn’t get a wink of sleep, the absence of his fiancé keeping his eyes wide open. He carefully got up, making sure he didn’t wake either Lip or Liam up and reached inside his Duffel bag, taking out the sweater of Blue’s that he took and holding it. He inhaled the scent of cologne and smoke, and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep, but failed to do so. Ian needed to feel his fiancé’s body under his arm, feel the warmth radiating from Blue. The sweater did give Ian a faux sense of comfort, however.

He mulled the previous day over in his head—Ian scrambling to the hospital, Blue keeping his word and showing up at the hospital, finding out Monica had died because of a cerebral haemorrhage, and not a drug overdose, and his conversation with Blue.

The last few days felt surreal; like it was a twisted dream and Ian has yet to wake up, and realize that this just was a vivid dream. Would he be more content with just being Blue’s boyfriend? He doubted it. He’d be miserable and both Blue and he would hate it.

His headache wasn’t going away. It didn’t hurt necessarily; it felt like a tight clamp around his skull, squeezing with all its might. He rubbed his forehead—as if that could ease the pain—and stared up at the wall, its paint chipped around the corners.

Soon enough, sunlight was streaming through the windows and the appetizing smell of bacon and scrambled eggs wafted into the small room. Ian’s stomach growled irately with hunger as Lip and Liam stirred from their slumber. “Morning,” Lip croaked.

“Morning,” Ian replied as he got up, putting the sweater in his Duffel bag. He knew his body was gonna hate him for overworking it in the near future, but the smell distracted him momentarily when he walked out and trudged to the small bathroom.

“.. I could’ve picked you up!” Ian heard Fiona’s voice from downstairs.

“You have a car?” Carl inquired dubiously, earning him a “mhm!” from their older sister.

“She’s a rich lady now,” Ian said, getting downstairs and hugging his little brother tightly, lifting him up in the air. “You a general now?” he asked, putting Carl down and stepping back.

“Hey, Cadet Corporal,” Carl replied, “get to kick some lazy freshman ass.” He looked at Lip and Fiona. “Is scrambled alright?”

“Yeah,” Fiona confirmed as she sat down at their wooden table with Lip and Ian. V and Kev walked in and greeted Carl, as did Debbie. Everyone disregarded the comatose widower sprawled out on the floor, while chattering excitedly. Well, as excitedly as they could with the thought of Monica dying the night prior still hanging heavily over them.

“Anyone wanna go to the mortuary with me? Figure out what to do with Monica?” Fiona inquired.

“What, we can’t just leave her there?” Lip replied sarcastically.

“Can’t,” Ian said, reaching for the orange juice as he glanced up at Fiona.

“Thought you asked your boss for a day off,” Fiona replied.

“I did,” Ian took a healthy sip of the OJ, “he didn’t give me permission.” Lip gave Fiona his reasons as to why he couldn’t join her as well while Ian began to scarf his food down.

“I’ll go,” Carl offered.

“Really?”

“Sure, why not?” Carl shrugged, while he reached for the bacon.

“I’ll go too,” V offered, “with the Alibi gone, I got nothin’ but time.” She glanced up at Ian. “Didn’t know your boyfriend’s wife was a fucking snake,” she added pointedly to the redhead.

Ian fought the urge to correct V, and shrugged nonchalantly. “Neither did I. She’s full of surprises.” He didn’t look up at V, emerald eyes trained on his food. He got up after shoving the last bit of his food in his mouth and ruffled Carl’s wavy, chestnut brown hair. “I gotta go to work. Good to have you back, Cadet Corporal.”

“Good to be back,” Carl grinned and Ian easily returned the grin before going upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

 

***************

Ian’s eyes were scanning the place to see the familiar faces—especially the one he lost sleep over the night prior. He sauntered over to the foursome as soon as he saw them. “Hey.”

“Congrats, man,” Casey smiled, “and sorry about your loss. Jesus, you’ve been through a lot these past few days.”

“Tell me about it,” Ian sighed and ruffled Blue’s raven hair, making the latter protest audibly while slapping Ian’s hand away. He smirked and lowered his hand to his fiancé’s shoulder, massaging it. “You’re ordained, right? You’ll be able to marry us?”

“Yes, sir,” Casey confirmed enthusiastically.

“Can’t believe we’re gonna be siblings!” Mandy beamed.

“If you squeal I’m gonna drop kick you,” Blue threatened. He knew Blue wasn’t going to stick by his words and actually drop kick the girl. He turned to look at the redhead. “You gonna sleep at our place tonight?”

“Yeah,” Ian confirmed, “I just might come home late. Urgent family meeting takes place tonight.” He mumbled that he had to go back to his shift, before doing his job. When he was done with his shift, they were all there, conversing quietly.

“I’m back,” Ian sighed and sat down next to Blue.

“Jesus, you look like hell,” Mandy commented.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep last night,” Ian replied, “I also have a headache and I’m fucking stressed.” Ian felt Blue put his hand against his knee, squeezing the part slightly.

“Shall we talk about the wedding venues?” Mandy inquired.

“Go ahead,” Ian nodded.

“So, the cheapest I got is in the Humboldt Park ‘West of Western’ district,” she started, “the rental fee ranges from $300 to $375 for a ceremony _and_ reception for 3 hours, which excludes set up and cleaning time. Additional and winter hours discounts are available but we need to ask the venue. It’s all indoors, by the way. The downside is that we have to pay for catering and we gotta bring our own booze.”

“I’ll look into that when I can,” Ian bit his lip. “The place sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, it sounds good to me as well,” Blue agreed, “what’s the maximum amount of guests?”

“80,” Mandy answered, “that’s not really a problem. Not many people are coming from our family, anyways.” Blue sniffed uncomfortably and looked away and Ian’s heart felt like it was filled with lead as it sank to Ian’s stomach. He hated that most of Blue’s family members were homophobic. Mandy’s expression resembled how Ian felt inside.

“Do you need a band?” Brielle looked at Ian inquisitively, “my cousin plays at weddings. I can ask her, and it’ll be free of cost.”

“That would be nice,” Ian smiled warmly, “thank you.”

“This is gonna be exciting,” Brielle clapped, and Ian nodded, the clamp around his skull tightening even more.

 

***************

Ian walked into a clamor of voices and sighed, the clamp squeezing the fuck out of his skull. _Christ._ “What the hell’s going on?” he asked incredulously as he ran to them.

“Frank found seven pounds of meth in a shitty storage room, and now he wants to sell it,” Fiona answered.

“It’s your mother’s legacy to her children!” Frank tried to reason, “it’s like a family heirloom, only with drugs!”

“It’s going down the toilet,” Fiona responded adamantly.

“Nobody flushes 70 thousand dollars worth of maternal bequest down the drain!” Frank exclaimed. Everyone was stunned.

“Wait.. how much?” Lip inquired, breaking the silence.

“70 grand?” Ian raised his eyebrows. That was 10 grand per pound. Frank started rambling about how the meth was of high quality but none of that registered with the redhead. His mind ran with suggestions on how to use the money while simultaneously having an internal battle of whether he should sell it or get rid of it.

“.. Give me liberty or give me meth!” Frank stated, pulling Ian back to reality. Ian exchanged looks with Lip, who obviously seemed to have the same argument inside his head. “We vote. All Gallaghers in favour of flushing 70 thousand dollars of _your_ future down the drain, raise your hand.” Ian wanted to raise his hand, he did, but images of lavish wedding venues flashed through his head.

Fiona’s hand shot up in the air, as expected. “Lip? Ian?” she gestured for them to do the same, but they didn’t.

“Maybe we should sleep on it,” Ian suggested. “Ten thousand dollars would go a long way with we-future.” Fiona looked at Ian incredulously while Lip looked at Ian in bewilderment.

“Lip?” She looked at Ian’s older brother.

“What?”  

She asked Carl and Debbie to back her up, but they were on the same page as Lip and Ian. “Could ask one of my corner buddies. See if they can unload it,” Carl offered.

“We could also ask one of Mickey’s brothers to sell ‘em,” Ian suggested, scratching his cheek absentmindedly, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Frank audibly expressed his approval before handing the bags of meth to his children, even Liam. “What the fuck, Frank?” Ian inquired incredulously.

“You’re not giving a bag of meth to a 6 year old,” Fiona said, astonished and disappointed by the absurdity of her younger siblings wanting to sell the meth. They were interrupted by a pounding on the door. Ian, Lip, Carl and Liam sat on the ratty couch after tossing the meth onto the table, trying to act as if they weren’t given a pound of meth each. Ian hastily turned the TV on.

“Where the hell is he?” An infuriated man asked as he stormed inside. Ian and Lip exchanged bewildered expressions. They all walked over to the kitchen as Frank was pushed down the stairs.

“Who the fuck is he?” Carl asked after Frank was pummeled in the face, groaning.

“That’s your grandpa Bill,” Lip answered.

Grandpa Bill was obstinate on giving Monica a funeral and offered to pay for it, which Fiona reluctantly agreed to do. Ian forgot how stubborn and grouchy the man was. He sipped on his root beer as he quietly observed the scene unfolding in front of him, effortlessly blending into the background.

Bill audibly showed his approval to Carl joining the army, and advised him to join the Navy. _That could’ve been you,_ a small voice in the back of Ian’s head nagged. Bill scoffed when he learned that Debbie was a teenage mother and glanced over at Frank disapprovingly. Ian hid his left hand from plain sight, not in the mood to be interrogated about his ring.

Grandpa Bill left shortly afterwards, and Ian watched him go. “Seems like a nice guy,” Lip commented sardonically, and Ian snorted in amusement.

“Fuck! No, Frank!” Debbie exclaimed and chased him upstairs, Fiona following suit. Ian pinched the bridge of his nose, wanting nothing more than to curl up next to Blue and forget about the past few days for a couple hours.

“The stress can’t be good on your meds,” Lip sighed.

“It isn’t,” Ian confirmed. “Coupled with the fact that I’ll have to figure out what to do with the meth, I wouldn’t be surprised if I relapsed.”

Lip opened his mouth to speak when they all heard yelling upstairs, and rushed upstairs to see what the commotion was about.

“Give me the goddamn meth!” Frank exclaimed.

“Or what?” Debbie challenged. Frank grabbed Debbie roughly, and the rest of the siblings struggled to pull Frank off their sister. Lip got hold of Debbie and pushed her away, when Frank channeled his anger on Fiona, pulling her hair. Ian and Lip managed to pin Frank against the wall, struggling to hold their father in place while Debbie slapped Frank.

The tension was so thick it was almost tangible. Adrenaline coursed through Ian’s veins as his head throbbed angrily. Ian and Lip reluctantly let Frank go and Frank stormed off to grab his things. “I’m gonna go,” Ian mumbled, catching his breath.

“I’ll see you at the funeral,” Lip panted.

“Yeah.” And with that, he left to go back home.

When Ian got home he made a beeline to their room, and opened the door, heart beating erratically at the sight of his fiancé as his shoulders sagged. Blue looked as worn out as Ian did, but he looked relieved when he saw the tired redhead. “Long day?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ian sighed, and took his shirt and pants off, crawling into bed. Blue did the same, lowering himself next to Ian. “You look tired.”

“It was a long fuckin’ day for me as well.” Blue moved closer to Ian, and the latter draped an arm over Blue’s waist as he nuzzled his face into Blue’s neck, breathing in the scent of Blue.

“You wanna talk about it?” Ian questioned.

“Nope.”

“Okay. My mom’s funeral is tomorrow,” Ian informed Blue, kissing the soft skin of his neck.

“I’ll be there,” Blue responded, petting Ian’s hair. Those three words held more weight than Blue probably intended them to. To Ian, it meant that Blue will be there for Ian even when everything in Ian's life was chaotic. He’ll be here when the world comes crashing down and when Ian is surrounded by rubble; that his arms will provide Ian the comfort that Ian never got. Ian silently vowed to be there for Blue when Blue’s world was crashing down as well.

Ian knew that no matter what happens, they’ll be here for each other; through thick and thin.


End file.
